


Sleeping At Last

by BoysGoToJupiter



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22275583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoysGoToJupiter/pseuds/BoysGoToJupiter
Summary: Quentin had begun his first semester of college in hopes to escape some of his nightmare from Springwood. Quentin was never too sure about college when he was in high school, but he figured it was his only chance to try and escape the traumas of the past and, perhaps, start fresh with new friends and new experiences.
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Quentin Smith
Comments: 21
Kudos: 47





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> HI BEAUTIES!! im happy to finally share the side project i've been working on!! i was hoping to have this done sooner, but if u follow beneath my ribcage well.... we all know what happened there. one of my readers said i went AWOL when i was gone for those 4 months, which i think is hilarious still. but i promise to do my best to keep up with both of these fics as best i can <3 its a bit of a longer fic, so i hope yall dont mind, but please enjoy :)
> 
> also!! a disclaimer!!!! everyone in this fic is 18 or older! no exceptions!! i'm using behaviours official statement saying all characters in their game are 18 or older. quentin is 18, steve is 19 (going off season 3 of stranger things) that aside, please enjoy :) 
> 
> p.s. last thing, i swear omg............ head canon this detail however you like, but personally i head canon quentin to look like the actor (kyle gallner) from the nightmare on elm street remake. i know behviour couldnt get all the rights or whatever, but the movie version of quentin is MUCH cuter imo. but head canon him however u like, happy reading <3

The alarm blared, Quentin jolting awake, immediately sitting in an upright position. It was something he had ingrained in his head since his night terrors started over a year ago. They felt so real and vivid, like a fever dream he couldn't wake up from. And to make matters worse, he started his first semester at college, meaning he would be with a stranger in his dorm the next time he experienced one of the nightmares. Luckily, though, he had been there for a couple weeks and had yet to experience one. A part of him felt like the man with the finger-knives just hasn't found him yet. But the threat of it happening was always lurking in the recesses of his mind. 

"Can you shut that off?" Quentin's dorm mate, Jake, groaned from his bed on the other side of the room.

"Sorry," Quentin apologized, reaching over to the clock and clicking the button to turn it off. 

"What time is it anyway?" Jake asked, turning over to face Quentin as he rubbed his eyes. 

"Why'd you take an 8am class?" The man asked groggily, sitting up on his elbows and yawning. Jake's hair was usually pulled into a little bun, but it was sticking up in every direction from him sleeping on it. 

"Well," Quentin started, pulling the sheets off of himself and sitting on the edge of his bed, "I did it in high school, so I thought I'd be able to do it for college."

"Rookie mistake," Jake chuckled, glancing up and down Quentin's body, "don't worry, you'll learn."

Even though it was mid-January, and she was in full force with her freezing grip, the vents in their room were superpowered. They worked so well that they made Quentin sweat if he had clothes on, so he was left nothing more than his boxers as he slept. He didn't even realize it until he looked down, quickly grabbing the covers and pulling them back over himself to keep it covered. 

"Whoops, sorry," Quentin said sheepishly, a little embarrassed. 

"It's all good, man," Jake nodded, the tiniest of smirks on his face, "I don't mind." 

"A-Are you hitting on me?" Quentin asked, his turning a slightly brighter shade of pink. 

"Maybe a little bit, yeah," Jake laughed, pulling the covers up to his neck and turning to face the wall again, "you're pretty cute."

"Oh," Quentin was taken off guard by the compliment. He coughed awkwardly as he tried to compose himself, quickly jumping up and pulling some pants on, "Well, thank you."

"Anytime, dude," Jake muttered, pulling the blanket over his head, "I do have a girlfriend, though, so no funny business."

"You have a girlfriend, and you're hitting on me?" Quentin asked, slightly puzzled. 

"Yes, bi people exist," Jake laughed from beneath the covers, his voice muffled, "I just said you're cute, I can call people cute." 

"I guess that's true," Quentin shrugged, pulling a shirt from the closet and putting it on. "I've gotta run, though. Otherwise, I'm going to be late." 

"Can you shut the blinds before you leave?" Jake asked, poking his head up from the blanket and squinting from the light. "It's so damn bright in here." 

"Yeah, I got you," Quentin reached over and turned the blinds closed. 

"Thanks," Jake muttered, pushing his face back into the pillow. 

Quentin walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen and living room area. Their dorm was a lot bigger than he would have expected, having separate rooms for the bedroom and kitchen and living room. Unfortunately, however, there was only one bathroom and one bedroom. The bedroom was spacious, allowing for both of them to have full-sized beds, but it still sucked having to share sleeping space with someone Quentin didn't know. 

Quentin's notebooks and papers were spread all over the table from the night of studying. He felt a little guilty leaving the table looking so bad, knowing Jake was a pretty clean person, but he couldn't help it. He was so exhausted he stripped his clothes off and knocked out immediately. Quentin just hoped Jake didn't have any of his friends over the last night. He didn't want them thinking he was a sloppy person.

Quentin gathered all his papers and stuffed them into a folder, throwing all his books and notebooks into his bag. He ran into the bathroom, putting deodorant on and brushing his teeth. If one thing was for sure, he would never be caught dead leaving the house without brushing his teeth and putting on deodorant. 

Looking in the mirror, he grimaced at his hair. His natural messing-looking hair looked even messier than usual. Luckily, the winter was in full swing, so he was able to put on a beanie. Quentin ran his hands through the curly locks, trying his best to make his hair even somewhat presentable. 

He attempted for over a minute before giving up, shaking his head as he did so. Quentin's hair had a mind of its own, doing its own thing and never allowing him to look normal. And the bags under his eyes from the little amounts of sleep he always got didn't help either. Quentin ran back into his room and pulled a beanie from the closet, yanking it onto his head with a few little curls poking out near his eyes. He was already dreading when the weather got too hot again, and he wouldn't be able to wear beanies all the time. 

Quentin's stomach grumbled as he was heading to the door, and he cursed himself silently. He had a two-hour lecture today, so he knew he would have to get some food; otherwise, he'd be starving in class. Quentin ran back into the kitchen, grabbing bread from off the fridge and some peanut butter and jelly from the cabinet. He lathered the two slices of bread up with the spreads, the quickest he'd ever made a sandwich. 

He stuffed the sandwich into his mouth, pulling his coat and backpack on before running out the door. 

There was a surprising amount of students walking around campus for 7:45 in the morning, even with how cold it was. Winter had spilled them underneath her tongue, their days and nights were filled with nonstop studying, leaving them unstrung. Everyone always got confused when Quentin told them this was his first semester of college since January, usually the halfway point. But Quentin had taken off the first semester out of high school. He really needed a chance to unwind. 

They had lucked out with the snow, at least, because they only got a light dusting. Quentin hated walking in the snow, driving in it too. But according to the weather, it was supposed to snow a ton, and it didn't. So even though he was walking to class in ten-degree weather at 7am, at least there wasn't more snow. 

Quentin made it to class just on time, sitting in the middle to be as invisible as possible as the professor began the lecture. 

Quentin wasn't sure if he was even conscious when the lecture ended. Jake was right about taking 8am classes, just because he did it in high school didn't mean he'd be able to do it in college. The subject matter was interesting to him, but the professor made it so dull he couldn't keep his eyes open for the whole two-hour class. 

"Hey," a voice whispered from a few feet away, startling Quentin. 

"Hello?" Quentin asked, looking around and stopping a guy sitting a few seats away from him. 

The guy looked like he was ripped straight out of the 80s, his hair was done up and slightly poofy. The jeans were a light wash and looked vintage. The sweater he was wearing seemed somewhat ordinary, just a few rips in the fabric near one of the wrists. 

"Hey, so this definitely isn't econ 101, huh?" The guy asked, a small smile spreading on his face. He was cute and handsome with a pretty pronounced jawline. 

"Umm..." Quentin cleared his throat a little, he had to try his best to not stutter too much as he talked to the boy, "no, uh, this is psych 101." 

"Holy shit, really?" He asked, seeming genuinely surprised. 

"Yeah, the uh, the class has been going on for almost two hours," Quentin's voice trailed off. If he didn't realize it was the wrong class after almost two hours, Quentin didn't know how to help him. Cute but dumb, they always were. 

"I'm fucking with you," the guy chuckled, still smiling at Quentin, "I know this is psych." 

"Oh," Quentin nodded slowly, making a face before turning away from him, "okay, cool." 

"No, no, I'm just messing with ya," the guy said, moving one seat closer, "I'm Steve, what's your name?" 

"Quentin," Quentin replied, pursing his lips a little. 

"Hey, that's a cool name," Steve complimented him, his voice still low so not to disrupt the lecture. 

"Thanks," Quentin gave a half-smile, nodding slightly. 

"Sorry if that came off wrong, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you," Steve chuckled, still smiling. 

"Oh, well, alright," Quentin replied, still a little unsure of how to respond. 

"Wait, wait," Steve shook his head, waving his hands in front of him, "let me retry that. Hey, I'm Steve, and I was wondering if you wanted to go to a party tonight." 

"A party?" Quentin asked, raising his eyebrows. "Tonight?" 

Steve paused for a moment and nodded. "Yeah, it is Friday." 

"Oh," Quentin glanced at his phone to check the day, "you're right." 

"Yeah, 'course I am," Steve grinned at Quentin, "so anyway, can you make it?" 

"Um, yeah probably," Quentin's voice trailed off. He didn't really want to go, he wasn't a big partier. "Where's it at?"

"It's at my friend's place, he's in a frat, so it's in one of the big buildings," Steve told him, "it's one of the nicer ones. I know some frats are gross, but I've been there, it's nice." 

"Oh, umm..." Quentin thought about it, scratching his beanie with his hand.

He wanted to say yes because this guy was super cute, but there was no way the dude was gay or hitting on him. Claudette had told him about these guys that have to bring more people to frats to try and recruit them as a sort of rite of passage. It was something frats did before they could accept new people or something, he couldn't really remember what else Claud had told him. Quentin was sure that's what it was; still, he could dream it was because of some attraction. 

"Umm, okay," Quentin sighed, resigning to the idea of going to the party. He hadn't been to a college party yet, and he did want to try it out. He figured it would be better than sitting alone in his dorm tonight, potentially with Jake. However, they were still a little awkward together. 

"Awesome!" Steve gave him a big grin, showing off his nearly perfect white teeth. "Here, let me give you my number, and I'll text you before the party starts."

"Yeah, okay," Quentin nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket and handing it to the guy. 

"Awesome," Steve was still grinning as he entered his number and handed Quentin his phone back. "Anyway, I gotta blast now, but I hope to see you tonight!" 

"Yeah, you probably will," Quentin gave him a little smile back, putting his phone back in his pocket. 

"Cool, cool," Steve nodded. He was still acting pretty confident, but Quentin could tell he was a little nervous himself, that first bit of awkwardness shining through. "Okay, well, see you then."

Quentin watched the guy grab his books and leave the lecture early. He couldn't help but smile to himself, taking his phone out again and looking at Steve's number in his phone. Quentin was nervous about the party, or maybe it was excitement. He could never really differentiate the two, both feeling similar in his stomach. Regardless, he hoped to tonight would bring some good things his way, maybe the lips of a cute boy.

"He wants you to go to a frat party?" Claudette asked, moving her plant over to the window. It was a pretty cloudly January, so she had to make sure her plants got as much sun as possible when it was out. 

"Yeah, that's what he said," Quentin shrugged, tapping his fingers on her kitchen table. 

"That sounds... unpleasant," Claudette laughed, pulling little clippers out from the drawer and clipping a few stray leaves off the plant. 

"I don't know, he was cute," Quentin chuckled a little, now tapping his foot on the floor.

"Is there a reason you're tapping so much?" She asked, leaning against the counter and glancing at his foot. "Also, remember what we said? Don't do things only because a cute boy asked you to." 

"Mmm," Quentin stopped all his tapping, glancing at Claud. "I know, I know, but I do wanna try out a college party."

"Wait for a second," Claudette narrowed her eyes, setting the clippers down on the counter, "you're going to ask me to go with you, aren't you?"

Quentin pursed his lips, his eyes widening a little. "Well..."

"You know I'm awkward with people!" Claudette exclaimed, sitting at the table next to Quentin and sighing loudly. 

"I need my wing-woman!" Quentin said, giving her puppy-dog eyes. "You know I can't talk to guys on my own!"

"But you don't even know if this guy is gay," Claudette explained to him, "like I said before, he's probably just trying to get more bodies for the frat to pad their numbers."

"Why would they need to do that?" Quentin asked.

"Well, think about it. Each year the seniors graduate and leave the college," Claudette continued, "they need to entice people to join to keep the frat alive." 

"Oh," Quentin nodded slowly, "anyway, he was charming and cute, but also like, handsome. I swear his style was taken right out of the '80s." 

"Oh, dear, smitten already," Claudette laughed, shaking her head. 

"So, will you come tonight?" Quentin asked, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her. 

"I hate you," Claudette sighed again, leaning on her elbow. 

"Is that a yes?" He asked, his eyes still sparkling. 

"Yes," she said, defeated, "it's a yes." 

"I love you, Claud!" Quentin exclaimed, jumping up, the little butterflies returning again. He hugged her, wrapping his arms around her head and pulling her into his stomach. 

"Watch the glasses, watch the glasses!" Claud shouted, her voice muffled.

"Oh, sorry," Quentin released her, his face a little red, "I need to go, though, and get ready."

"You said it wasn't until tonight?" She asked, adjusting her glasses on her face. 

"Yes," he confirmed with a nod. 

"You have plenty of time, why are you going to get ready now?" Claudette asked him. 

"I'm stressed, Claudette," Quentin huffed, grabbing his coat and pulling it on. 

"Well," she shrugged, "I can't argue with that, I suppose."

"Exactly," Quentin chuckled, heading to her dorm door, "I'll call you when I'm heading over."

"Alright, see you tonight... maybe," she said, making a face at him. 

"Maybe!?" Quentin stopped and turned to look at her. 

"I'm just teasing you," Claudette laughed, shaking her head, "go get ready for three hours. Otherwise, we're going to be late." 

"Okay, okay, bye," Quentin called as he left her dorm, shutting the door behind him.

Quentin paced around his room, still unsure of his outfit. He had on his grey shirt with the tree of life on it and his blue zip-up jacket. Quentin also decided to go with just some dark wash jeans. He had on his necklace, of course, he never took it off. On it was a little cross. He wasn't religious, but his father was, and it was the only thing he left when he died. 

"Still deciding, dude?" Jake asked, taking a bite out of an apple and leaning against the doorframe. 

"Ugh, yes," Quentin groaned, flopping down on his bed. 

"How cute is this guy?" Jake sat beside Quentin on the bed. 

"Pretty damn cute," Quentin groaned, shutting his eyes.

"Oh, so it's serious that you look good, huh?" Jake chuckled, taking another bite out of the apple. 

"Yes! And I don't know how to look cute!" Quentin exclaimed, groaning a little bit more. 

"Let me tell you something," Jake started in between bites of the apple, "use your face. You're cute as hell, and as long as your face is cute, the outfit will be fine." 

"You think so?" Quentin asked, opening his eyes and sitting up. 

"I know so," Jake nodded, "you're adorable, and your outfit is fine." 

"Thanks," Quentin smiled at the man, his cheeks turning a little red. 

"You said this party was at a frat?" Jake asked, finishing the apple off. 

"Yeah," Quentin nodded, standing up and grabbing his beanie. It was the only defense he had against his messy hair. 

"Well, that sounds unpleasant," Jake grimaced a little, "but free alcohol is free alcohol. I'll probably bring my girlfriend and go." 

"You should!" Quentin grinned. "There will be more of us, so it'll be less awkward."

"I hope it isn't awkward for you," Jake stood up and put his hand on Quentin's shoulder. "Also, use a condom." 

"I-" Quentin choked, blinking quickly. "What do you mean!? I'm not gonna have sex tonight!" 

"If you say so, bud," Jake winked, taking his hand off Quentin's shoulder. "I'm just saying, use a condom." 

"Of course I will, I'm not dumb!" Quentin exclaimed, his face was bright red.

"Not saying you are, but when you're drinking and with a good looking guy... well, sometimes things get heated," Jake explained, heading toward the door, "just be prepared, you know? No harm, no foul, right?"

"W-Well-" Quentin stammered, swallowing hard. "Fine, but I'm not using it."

"That's fine, just in case," Jake chuckled. "Also," he stopped in the doorway and turned to look at him, "lose the beanie." 

"Lose the beanie," Quentin grumbled to himself as he left Claud's building, pulling the beanie securely onto his head, "I can't just lose the beanie." 

"Are you still on about the beanie?" Claudette asked, walking beside him with her ugly sweater on. 

"Yes, I'm still on about the beanie," Quentin continued to grumble. "Why are you wearing that sweater? Christmas is over." 

"And? It's so soft and warm," Claudette snuggled her cheek against the sleeve. 

"Okay..." Quentin nodded slowly, adjusting his beanie again, a little bit of his curly hair poking out. 

"Did you say your roommate was coming too?" Claud asked after she stopped rubbing her face on the sweater.

"He said yeah, I'm pretty sure," Quentin responded, the anxiety slowly creeping up again as they walked closer to the frat house. 

"I know that look, are you nervous?" Claudette asked, looking over at him. 

"Yes! I've never been to a college party before!" Quentin exclaimed, taking a deep breath. 

"I'm sure it can't be too different than a regular party," Claudette said, trying to reassure him. 

"Well, I've never been to a normal party, either!" Quentin sighed, holding his necklace in the palm of his hand. 

"Really? Even I have, what a loser," Claud said quietly under her breath.

"I-" Quentin choked, looking over at her, "what the hell, Claud?!"

"I'm just joking, come on, you know that," Claudette laughed out loud, the smile staying on her face even after she finished laughing. 

"I know, I know," Quentin huffed, twidling his necklace between his fingers. "I'm just stressed."

"We'll go there, we'll take a couple shots," Claudette nudged him with her elbow, "loosen you up, you know? It'll be great." 

"I don't think I've ever taken a shot..." Quentin's voice trailed off, the music from the frat house was audible even though they were a block away. 

"Well, that's another first for you tonight!" Claudette grinned. "Don't worry, it'll be amazing."

"You think so?" Quentin asked, more rhetorically than anything. 

"Well, I mean it is at a frat house, and some of these places are nasty," Claudette mused out loud, "but if you can get over that fact, I think you'll be okay."

"Do we just... walk in?" Quentin asked as they walked up the steps to the door, the music pulsing even from outside the house. 

"Yes," Claudette nodded, pushing the door open and walking into the house. 

Quentin wasn't too sure what he expected, but it wasn't what he was looking it. The house was completely filled with people. Each room was packed with people drinking and dancing. Somehow they were even dancing on the stairs leading up to the second floor. That was a feat, even in itself. 

Claudette grabbed Quentin's arm and lead him to the kitchen, away from the speakers in the living room. "Kinda loud, huh?" Claudette half-shouted, stopping at the island in the kitchen. It was lined with different bottles of alcohol. 

"These don't break?" Quentin asked, eyeing the bottles on the marble. "Also, this is a nice kitchen."

"Oh, yeah, that guy wasn't lying when he said this was a nicer frat house," Claudette nodded approvingly, grabbing a few red solo cups from next to the bottles. 

"I wonder where Steve is..." Quentin's voice trailed off as he watched Claudette pour some red liquid into the cups, his anxiety at an all-time high. 

"Take a shot, and then we'll worry about that," Claudette handed him the red cup, the fiery aroma of cinnamon filling his nostrils. 

"Jesus, what is this stuff," Quentin grimaced, the overwhelming scent of cinnamon coming from the plastic cup. 

"Fireball," Claudette replied casually, swirling the liquid around in the cup, "this stuff is like candy." 

"It smells awful," Quentin continued to grimace, swirling it around like Claudette was. "Well, I guess it's not that bad of a smell. Just... pungent." 

"That's alcohol, boo," Claudette laughed, smiling at him. "Now, take the damn shot. On three, alright? One... two... three!"

Claudette and Quentin took the shot, the fiery liquid burning his throat as it rolled down.

"I thought you were a nerdy botanist, why are you acting so cool?" Quentin asked, coughing from the cinnamon in his teeth. 

"That was high school," Claudette winked as she poured more of the fireball into their cups, "get with the times, Quentin. All the big kids get drunk."

"Okay, chill out, just the other day you wanted a bandaid for a scratch from a thorn," Quentin laughed at her. 

"Thorns can be dangerous! They are not a joke," Claudette smiled at him, handing the cup back to him. 

"Another?!" Quentin nearly choked, taking the cup and looking down at the liquid in the container.

"The last one for a while, you'll feel good, trust me," Claudette held her cup, "on three again."

Claudette counted to three, the two of them clinking their plastic together and taking the second shot. 

"Jesus, Claud," Quentin coughed some more, "you've got me fucked up drinking this stuff."

"That's the point!" Claudette laughed at him, taking the cup from his hands and tossing it in the garbage. "Now, where's this boy at?"

"Uh, I'm not sure, I'll text him," Quentin said, fumbling with the phone in his pocket. 

"Hey, Quentin!" A voice shouted from the other room, startling him. 

"There he is," Claudette nudged him, winking as she did, "oh, he is cute. But also handsome, you were right." 

"U-Uh, thanks," Quentin stammered, stuffing his phone back in his pocket as the butterflies returned to his stomach. 

Steve walked over to Quentin, dodging people dancing and drinking as he made his way over to the tired boy. "Hey, man," Steve said with a smile, showing off his white teeth again. 

"Hey," Quentin gulped, rubbing the back of his head, "what's up?" 

"Just drinking," he said, holding up his beer, "you smell like cinnamon, what were you drinking?" 

"Fireball," Claudette interjected, holding up the bottle of liquor. 

"Oh, a whiskey kinda guy," Steve nodded approvingly, "I respect it. I'm more into vodka myself." 

"I suppose I'm a whiskey guy," Quentin chuckled awkwardly, "I've never really had whiskey before today, though." 

"Really? What did you drink?" Steve asked, adjusting his sweater with his free hand.

"Um, well, nothing," Quentin replied honestly, smiling at Steve a little. 

"Oh, Jesus, this is a trainwreck," Claudette sighed, stepping up and putting her hand on Quentin's shoulder, "he's nervous, so I was trying to loosen him up with alcohol." 

"That's cute, but you don't need to be nervous dude," Steve grinned at him, looking between the two, "we're just here to have fun." 

"Yeah, you're right," Quentin replied with a little nod, the smile slowly fading from his face. He could feel the alcohol heating up his stomach, the butterflies forced out from the heat. 

A part of him was a little sad about coming now. Steve's mannerisms and word choice pointed to nothing more than just a friend, a bro. Claudette had been right. He just brought Quentin here to pad their numbers, maybe to help with his initiation or something. 

Claudette could sense the shift in Quentin's mood just from glancing at his face. "Could you excuse us for a moment? What was your name? Steve?" 

"Yeah, Steve," he nodded, taking a sip from his beer bottle, "and of course. I'll be in the living room if you need me."

"Yeah, we'll come to find you," Claud smiled, pulling Quentin aside as Steve headed towards the living room. 

"He's got a nice ass, too," Quentin frowned as Claudette pulled him to the other side of the island.

"Well, here we are," Claudette frowned too, clasping her hands together in front of her, "what's wrong?" 

"You were right, he just invited me to pad the frat's numbers or something," Quentin's frown deepened, "you can say I told you so now." 

"No, I don't want to tell you I told you so," Claudette said, putting her arm around him, "I want you to be happy." 

"Thanks, Claud," Quentin mumbled, resting his head on hers since he was at least a head taller than her. 

"Now let's say fuck this boy -- not like that -- and drink some more and have fun," she nudged him, taking her arm from around him and dancing her way over to the bottle of fireball. 

"You're right! Fuck that boy! I wish like that, cause he's hot, but yeah!" Quentin laughed, his face heating. "Is alcohol supposed to make me hot?" 

"You already are, boo," Claudette winked, pouring them another shot, "here you are." 

Both of them tapped their cups together and took another shot. Quentin's face contorting from the cinnamon taste. Claudette was right though, it did taste like candy. It just happened to have an alcohol taste as well. 

"Not to add salt to the wound," Claudette started, throwing their cups away, "but he does have a nice ass, and I don't even like guys."

"Don't remind me!" Quentin laughed. "I'm gonna need another shot if you keep talking about him."

Quentin wasn't wearing his usual chapstick. He thought maybe he and Steve would kiss tonight. And Quentin had a particular flavor of chapstick for kissing boys. Not that he had ever kissed more than one guy before, but he had the idea of having a specific taste for his lips.

"Well, I can definitely arrange that," Claudette nodded as she crossed her arms. "Come on, let's go dance."

"I can't! I don't know how!" Quentin exclaimed, eyes wide with fright.

"You'll be fine! It's not like you have to be a good dancer! Everyone's drunk, they don't care," Claudette reassured him as she led him to the dining room where people were dancing, all the tables and chairs moved to the corners. 

"Oh, dear," Quentin gulped as she pushed him to the middle of the dancefloor. 

Quentin had no idea what he was doing, so he just followed Claudette's lead. The alcohol had finally reached his system, giving him more than a nice buzz. Claudette was right, for the tenth time that night. She had given them just the right amount of alcohol to feel good. Quentin wasn't even sure what he was doing, but he moved his body to the rhythm. Well, whatever scraps of rhythm he had. He did what she said and just ignored everyone. They were dancing in their own little world. 

The night was winding down, Quentin and Claudette had more to drink and kept dancing until they were too tired to continue. The party had started to clear out, fewer people crowded the rooms. Claudette moved from the dining room into the living room to catch their breath before leaving. They'd been dancing for a long time, something Quentin didn't even know he could do. He was sure his moves were terrible, but he didn't let that bother him. Like Claudette said, nobody was paying attention to them anyhow.

"How'd I do?" Quentin asked, breathing heavily still. 

"What?" Claudette asked, half looking at him. "Oh, sorry, there was a pretty girl over there." 

Quentin looked over to the girl that Claudette was talking about. She was gorgeous. The girl had long, curly blonde hair that came to perfect little curls near the ends. She was wearing ripped jeans that showed off some tattoos on her right leg. The girl was also sporting a tattoo sleeve down her left arm. 

"Woah, she's pretty," Quentin looked back over to Claudette, who seemed to be in a trance, "go talk to her!" 

"No way, she's out of my league," Claudette chuckled nervously. 

"Excuse me!" Quentin shouted across the room, the girl turning her head to face them. He usually wasn't as outgoing, but he was still feeling himself with the alcohol, so he was getting a little risky. 

"Me?" She asked, point to herself and looking around to make sure he didn't mean anyone else. "Sorry, not interested." 

"Oh, not like that," Quentin's eyes went wide as he vigorously shook his head, "I'm into guys." 

"Oh," she said, walking over to them, "what's up?"

"Hi, I'm Quentin," Quentin stood up to shake her hand, swaying a little. "What's your name?" 

"Howdy, Quentin, I'm Kate," she smiled back, shaking his hand. And she had a firm handshake. 

"Introductions aside, here's my friend Claudette," Quentin stepped to the side a little and gestured to her, "well, wait, I guess that was actually an introduction."

"I'm gonna kill you," Claudette seethed into Quentin's ear as she stood to shake Kate's hand. "Hi, I'm Claudette." 

"Nice to meet you, Claudette," Kate smiled at her, "would you like to get something to drink?" 

"I-" Claudette choked a little, clearing her throat. It was the first time he'd ever seen Claudette off-guard. 

She looked over to Quentin, kind of asking if it was okay if she left him, to which he nodded with a huge grin. "Go get her, boo." He nudged her forward.

"I'll be back, I promise," Claudette whispered with a grin before turning back to Kate, "yeah, I would like that." 

Quentin smiled at her as they walked to the kitchen. "Hey, Quentin!" A voice shouted, startling him. 

"Oh, hey, Steve," Quentin gave the man a half-smile. To be honest, he sort of forgot about Steve. 

"Hey, where'd you run off to?" He asked, sitting on the couch beside Quentin. Steve's pose was powerful, spreading his legs wide and putting one arm over the backrest as he took a swig of his beer. 

"Oh, sorry, Claudette has me dancing with her in the other room," Quentin replied awkwardly, rubbing the back of his beanie. He had to be careful to make sure the beanie didn't fall off and expose the mop hair he had underneath. 

"Oh, I didn't know you danced," Steve smiled at him.

"I most certainly do not," Quentin laughed, "she forced me to do it. It was a lot of fun, though."

"Hey, is it bad that I kinda want to kiss you?" Steve asked, moving his arm and leaning forward a little. 

"I-" Quentin coughed, covering his mouth and looking away, "I, uh..." 

"Oh... oh!" Steve exclaimed, scooting over a little. "I'm sorry, did I read this wrong? Are you not into guys?" 

"No, no, I am!" Quentin stammered, looking back over to the guy. "I just didn't think we would kiss."

"Oh, really?" Steve smirked. "Well, I've got some pretty soft lips, though, and I bet it'd be a little bit electrifying if we kissed." 

For a fleeting moment, Quentin thought he was in a dream. Which, to be honest, would be very on-brand for him and his seemingly eternal, reoccurring nightmares. Everything that was happening seemed too surreal to be real. Someone as sexy as Steve was sitting beside him, nearing only inches away from his face, and wanted to kiss him. It was like something out of a fairytale. 

"Well," Quentin started, flirting back with the guy, "I doubt you'd do it anyway, so." Quentin was not one to be bold like that when it came to flirting, but he was still feeling himself from the liquor. 

Before Quentin could say anything else, Steve leaned in and, lo and behold, he kissed Quentin! That sexy motherfucker kissed him! He was right, as soon as Steve's soft lips pressed against Quentin's, there was an electrifying intensity that sparked between them. Steve was also right about having soft lips, Quentin didn't think he had ever kissed someone with lips so sweet. The spark from their kiss ran down Quentin's spine, all his limbs tingling as it did so. It also ran up to his brain, numbing everything else except the feeling of Steve's lips on his.

"Um..." Quentin blinked quickly as Steve pulled away, immediately missing the warmth of Steve's mouth, "wow."

"What'd you think?" Steve asked with his lips still nearly pressed to Quentin's, his voice low.

"Really great," Quentin breathed, using all his self-restraint to stop him from kissing the guy again. 

"Is it alright if I kiss you again?" Steve asked as he set the beer bottle down on the ground. "I want to make sure I have your consent."

"Yes, please," Quentin nodded, biting his lower lip. 

Steve pushed his lips against Quentin's again, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and the other around his waist, pulling him even closer. Quentin followed his lead, wrapping his arms around Steve's shoulders and let the man pull him even closer. Quentin wanted to melt into Steve, the warmth of his hands and lips had him mesmerized. Danger was what they were doing, locking lips to ruin. 

"You good?" Steve asked him once their lips separated. Quentin opened his eyes, a smirk on Steve's face. 

"Where am I?" Quentin joked, a smile spreading on his lips. 

"Kissing the hottest guy in the room," Steve winked, showing off his pearly whites with a grin. 

"Sorry, I don't really want to kiss myself," Quentin grinned back, his arms still wrapped around Steve's shoulders. 

"Okay, okay," Steve laughed, a laugh that was so recognizable it made Quentin's heart skip a beat each time he heard it, "so cutie Quentin's got jokes, I like that."

"Hey, lovebirds," Kate's voice startled Quentin, "Claudette is leaving, so you are too."

"But-" Quentin tried to protest, but Kate cut him off. Claudette's head poked out from behind Kate.

"No buts," she shook her head, "I'm sure pretty boy is a great guy, but you're not staying the night here. I'm sure he gets it."

"That's fine," Steve nodded, "I respect it."

"Ugh, fine," Quentin groaned, making a face at Claudette. 

"Let me walk you guys out at least," Steve offered, removing his arms from around Quentin and grabbing his beer from the ground, "come on, cutie."

Steve helped Quentin to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist as they headed to the door. Steve led them to the door, opening it for them and allowing the cold air to sweep in. A shiver ran down Quentin's spine from the freezing January night. 

As much as Quentin didn't want to leave, he knew it was for the best. If he stayed, Quentin knew he and Steve might take things a little too far, and he didn't think he was ready for that. Drunk Quentin, in lust with a hot guy, was not how he wanted to have sex for the first time. 

"I'm thrilled you came out tonight," Steve said with a small smile.

"I am too," Quentin smiled back, a small blush spreading over him. 

"Can I get one more kiss before you go?" Steve asked Quentin, a dashing grin sat on his face now. 

"I think I can manage that," Quentin smiled like an idiot. 

The two leaned in, their lips connecting as a particular freezing gust of wind hit them. Still, the warmth from the guy with his hands on Quentin's hips was enough to ignore it.

"Goodnight," Steve said, his voice low with their lips still nearly touching.

"Night," was all Quentin could choke out, absolutely smitten by Steve, the guy from the 80s. 

"It is cold, please hurry," Kate groaned, from beside the two. 

"Alright, alright," Steve chuckled, "get outta here then, I'll text you."

"Okay," Quentin couldn't stop smiling like an idiot, giving Steve one more peck on the lips before running down the stairs with Kate and Claudette. 

"So?" Claudette asked next to him as they walked down the sidewalk back to their dorms. 

"We're not gonna talk about it," he said, the smile never leaving his face. 

"Oh, he's hooked," Kate laughed, "just be careful. He's hit on me before, but he's not my type. More into girls."

"I'm not," Quentin nodded, still smiling. 

The three of them walked all the way back to their dorms, huddling close for warmth. They clearly weren't dressed right for the weather, but they needed to look cute before worrying about being warm. It was an added bonus if one was able to achieve both at once. No matter how bone-chilling the wind felt, the cold air couldn't freeze over the warmth of the little butterflies that Steve had left in his stomach. They had only met that day -- knowing each other for less than twelve hours and had kissed fewer times still -- but Quentin couldn't get Steve's face out of his head, nor the feeling of the guy's lips off his own. And the worst part was that he didn't think he wanted to. 

Slowly, each of them stumbled to their dorm building, Quentin arriving last from their drunk walk home, the smile never leaving his lips. Not even when slumber tugged at his eyes. Or when he crawled into bed with his socks still on. And not even in his dreams, which were the first pleasant ones he'd had in longer than he could remember.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO MY BEAUTIES. SO sorry this took so long. if you're here from my other fic than u know i can take forever with writing chapters sometimes, especially now that i'm splitting my time between two works. there's also a lot going on in my personal life with school and work and ive the big S word (stressed) trying to pick out a school to finish my medical degree so please bear with me as i continue to get these out. and thank u so much for reading and being as patient as u are <3 it means a lot to me. there was a lot of exposition in this chapter but i swear next chapter will be a lil spicier :) i still am not sure if people like long chapters like this one, or if they prefer shorter ones... but this one is a little longer so i hope u don't mind. please enjoy!

Quentin jolted awake, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. He grasped his neck, feeling the tenderness of his skin beneath his fingers. It was just a dream, it wasn't real. Or, more so, it was a nightmare. It was like a fever dream each time he went to sleep, they were so vivid and felt so real he feared that one day they might come true. Regardless, at least this morning, the nightmare hadn't come true. His neck was unharmed, and the January sun decided to bless them as it streamed into their room through the cracks in the blinds. 

"Shut those blinds," Jake mumbled from the other bed, waving his arm around, "it's too bright." 

Quentin was trying to calm down and catch his breath. He was still panting from the dream he had, and it looked like Jake noticed.

"You alright, dude?" Jake asked, rolling over and opening one eye to look at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Quentin nodded, finally calming himself down, "I just get some pretty bad nightmares sometimes." 

"Damn, I'm sorry," Jake frowned, pushing himself up on one elbow, "but you're good?"

"Yeah," Quentin nodded, pulling the covers off and sitting on the edge of the bed, "yeah, I'm good." 

"Great, then can you close the blinds please," Jake glanced between Quentin and the blinds before rolling back over and pulling the blankets over his head.

"Yeah, I got you," Quentin laughed, standing up and pulling the blind strings, so they blocked the light from entering. 

Quentin looked down to see he was only wearing his underwear again, his face turning red as he pulled a pair of pants from his drawer and put them on. He needed to get into the habit of at least wearing shorts to bed because Jake definitely saw him in his underwear again. And he doubted Jake cared that much, but Quentin cared a little bit. Neither one of them needed Jake seeing anything below the belt. 

Quentin yawned as he walked into the bathroom, immediately going to brush his teeth. There was nothing more he hated than having morning breath. Quentin could not function for the day until he brushed his teeth, the taste lingering in his mouth made him nauseous. The tick of the hand clock on the wall hit two minutes, the required time he needed to properly brush his teeth. 

Quentin heard his phone start ringing from their bedroom, the ringer had to be on max volume or something because it was deafening. He ran as quickly as he could and dove onto his bed to answer it.

"Hello?" Quentin answered. He didn't even see who was calling, he was trying to get it to stop ringing for Jake.

"I hate you," Jake groaned from beneath the covers. 

"Hey, boo," Claudette's voice came from the other end, "wanna go get breakfast?" 

"Uh, yeah, sure," Quentin nodded, patting the top of his head, "but I have class in like two hours."

"Does it take you two hours to eat?" Claudette asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Oh, no, no," Quentin chuckled, "I was just saying. I still need to get changed, though."

"Then, get changed!" Claudette told him. "I'm heading over now."

"I don't know what to wear!" Quentin exclaimed, jumping up. 

"Let's be honest, do you wear anything besides jeans?" Claudette asked. Quentin knew the face she was making when she said that, he didn't even need to be there to understand. 

"Okay, well, you don't need to drag me like that," Quentin huffed, putting on his socks and shoes and going to the closet to grab a shirt.

"You put your shoes and socks on before your shirt?" Jake grumbled from the corner. 

"What?" Quentin and Claudette asked at the same time. 

"Who is that?" Claudette asked over the phone.

"It's Jake, my dormmate," Quentin told her, setting the phone down and pulling a shirt on, "and yes, I do."

"Interesting choice," Jake nodded slowly, "I respect it."

"Thanks," Quentin nodded, grabbing his phone again and heading into the kitchen. 

"Shut the door!" Jake called after him, the sound of the sheets rustling behind him. 

"Okay!" He called back, grabbing the door handle and shutting it. "Anyway, hurry up, I'm hungry."

"Don't you always get pancakes?" Claudette asked as the waitress walked away with their menus. 

"Are we on the Quentin hate train today?" Quentin asked, taking a sip of his orange juice. 

"Oh, that's every day," Claudette smiled at him, placing her elbows on the table. 

"Yeah, I know," Quentin grumbled, setting his drink down. 

"Oh, hey! Did that boy ever text you back?" Claudette asked, raising one of her eyebrows. 

"Not yet," Quentin frowned, tapping one of his fingers on the table. 

"I'm sorry, boo..." Claudette frowned with him. 

"No, it's okay," Quentin tried his best to give a little smile, "he said he'd be busy with some project for a few days, so I get it."

"Well, at least he gave you a reason he wouldn't be replying, it's not like he's ghosting you or something," Claudette smiled at him. Her smile always had a way of making him feel warm and fuzzy, she just had that aura about her. 

"Well, let's hope he's not ghosting me," Quentin chuckled, knowing full well that he would be hurt if Steve was. "What about that girl?" 

"Oh, she's great, she actually replies," Claudette teased, sticking out her tongue. 

"Ouch," Quentin laughed, placing a hand over his heart like he was shot, "damn, calm down, Claud, you're hurting me." 

"I'm just kidding," she reached across the table and touched his hand, "I'm sure he's just busy, don't overthink it, okay?" 

"I'll try my best, you know I'm a thinker," Quentin smiled a sad little thing.

"I know," she replied, patting his hand, "but hey, Kate invited me to a party tonight, did you wanna come with us?" 

"And be a third wheel?" Quentin's jaw dropped. "I think not!"

"I did it for you! You owe me!" Claudette pushed his foot under the table with her own.

It was true, she did go with him to the party when he wanted to see Steve. He most certainly would not have gone if she didn't go and look at how it turned out. He was likely being ghosted by some hot guy. At least Kate wasn't ghosting Claudette, at least not yet. Hopefully, not ever, but he didn't know what the future would hold. 

Quentin shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Fine, I'll go with you."

"Yes!" Claudette exclaimed happily, grabbing his arm from across the table. "I love you!" 

"Save it," he joked with her, waving her off with his hand, "you're just saying that."

"Yeah, maybe," Claudette smirked a little, pushing her glasses up her nose. 

"The truth comes out, I see," Quentin shook his head, smirking back at her.

"Anyway," Claudette cleared her throat, "so, I think Kate said she wanted to be at the party no later than nine since it's a Thursday."

"Okay," Quentin nodded, taking another sip from his orange juice. 

"So, you better be ready!" Claudette teased, looking at her phone and texting as she did so.

"You texting Kate?" Quentin asked, pursing his lips. "You're supposed to pay attention to ME, Claud."

"Oh, you're DRAMATIC, dramatic today, huh?" Claudette laughed, setting her phone face down on the table. 

"I... no!" Quentin crossed his arms, huffing as he did so. 

"Yeah, yeah," Claudette waved him off, "it's okay, I still love you."

"Thanks," Quentin laughed at her, smiling slightly. 

"Alright, here is your food," the waitress said, walking to the table and leaving their plates of food in front of them, "enjoy!"

"Do I look okay?" Quentin asked, standing in the doorway to his and Jake's room. 

"You look fine," Jake said, glancing up from his laptop. The man was half sitting, half lying on his bed. 

"Okay, but fine isn't going to cut it," Quentin groaned, going back to his closet to look again. 

"Please, don't change again," Jake begged, laying his head back on his pillow, "you make me close my eyes for way longer than you need. I've literally seen your bulge multiple times now, I promise you it's not going to change."

"I-" Quentin choked, moving his hands over his crotch area, "don't look!" 

"You've stood in front of me in just your underwear like four times now," Jake reminded him, "if you didn't want me to look, you should've worn at least shorts to bed."

"Anyway," Quentin cleared his throat, " 'fine' isn't going to cut it."

"Why do you care so much about your outfit for this party?" Jake asked him, raising an eyebrow. 

"Because... I just need to look nice, alright?" Quentin grumbled, sitting on his bed and crossing his arms.

"Are you hoping that guy is going to be there?" Jake asked, his face blank.

"N-No!" Quentin coughed, jumping up and going back over to the closet.

"Ding, ding, ding," Jake laughed, shaking his head, "didn't he ghost you, though?" 

"No! He's just... busy..." Quentin frowned, still not turning around to face Jake.

"Mmm, hmm," Jake said. Quentin could see him nodding skeptically with his peripheral vision, "well, anyway, you said you want to look cute?"

"Yeah," Quentin nodded, finally turned to face him.

"You look very cute," Jake told him with a smile, "honest."

Quentin smiled back at him. "Thanks."

"Now, shoo," Jake shooed Quentin with his hand, "before you try and change again." 

"Hey!" Quentin laughed with a shake of his head. "Fine, I'm leaving. I'll be as quiet as possible when I come back home."

"Oh, please," Jake begged, "I'll love you forever if you don't wake me up tonight."

"Well, get ready to love me forever then, because I'll be super quiet," Quentin promised with a wink, "bye!"

"Later," Jake called as Quentin opened their front door and left.

"Why do you keep grabbing at your jacket like that?" Claudette asked, pushing his arm away from his jacket.

"I'm nervous," Quentin admitted, looking at the ground. 

"Nervous about what?" Kate chimed in, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. 

Quentin was taller than Kate, but she managed to get her arm all the way around his shoulder without too much struggle. Her wavy blonde hair was covered by a blue beanie. Her hair was too long, however, so some of her curls stuck out of the hat. 

"Hey, we're matching," Quentin said, pointing to his beanie.

"Well, yours is grey, but yeah!" She smiled at him, patting his arm. "Now, don't be nervous, it's going to be fun." 

"What if Steve is there?" Quentin asked, looking down again. Quentin hadn't noticed at first, but Kate was wearing cowboy boots. "Do cowboy boots actually work well in the snow?" 

"That's what you're nervous about?" Claudette asked, making a face. "You said he was busy with some project, why would he be at a party?"

"Surprisingly, they work well in the snow," Kate chimed in after Claudette stopped talking, "these ones are made specifically for the snow, though." 

"What?" Claudette said, staring at her.

"The cowboy boots and the snow?" Kate replied, removing her arm from around Quentin's shoulders. 

"I... think I missed that part of the conversation," Claudette admitted with a chuckle.

"Anyway," Quentin cleared his throat, the sound of the music from the house was now audible, "you know he likes parties."

"Do I?" Claudette asked quizzingly. 

"Regardless," Quentin cleared his throat again.

"How many times can you use a transitional word?" Claudette asked him.

"I have more," Quentin answered with a little nod. 

"Name another," Kate told him with a smile. 

"Moreover," Quentin said with a sly smile, "or, how about furthermore?"

"Okay, we get it," Claudette interrupted, smiling slightly as well, "you have plenty of transition words you can use."

"Well, what if, what's his name? Steve? What if Steve is there?" Kate asked. "Would you be happy about it?"

"I'm not sure..." Quentin admitted, frowning, "I want to see him because I like him, but he hasn't texted me back in a couple of days, so I think I'd be kind of hurt if he did end up going..."

"Yeah, I get that," Kate nodded, patting his back, "but thinking about it now, which feeling do you think you'd feel more?" 

Quentin thought about it, putting his cold hand on his icy chin and looking down as they walked. "I think... I'd be happier," he nodded, looking up at her again.

"Well," Kate smiled, gesturing her hands out, "if you do end up seeing him, maybe try and think about that instead of the hurt. I mean, you guys kissed like three times total, drunk, at some house party. Maybe he just didn't think it was as serious as you did, but you can let him know because maybe he feels the same."

"Mmm," Quentin scratched the back of his head, "I don't know about all that..."

"What do you mean?" Kate asked frowning. 

"Like... telling him about feelings and all that?" Quentin questioned, awkwardly playing with his beanie. "Yeah, I'm not too sure about that. I and feelings don't ever end well."

"You don't know this time unless you try," Kate pointed out, "you can tell him how you feel, or you can just feel hurt by it for who knows how long."

"She's got a point," Claudette chimed in, nudging Quentin's side. 

Quentin made a face at them. "Fine, I can talk to him about feelings or whatever. But if it ends badly, I'm blaming you guys."

"I will personally take all the blame," Kate promised, nodding her head.

"No, I'll make Claudette take the blame, not you, Kate," Quentin chuckled at her.

"I- What! Kate offered!" Claudette laughed and pushed his shoulder as they walked up the porch stairs and into the house.

The first thing Quentin heard was the ticking a clock, but faintly. There must've been a grandfather clock somewhere in the house. But, much like the last party they were at, the rooms were packed with people dancing and talking. The living room and dining room seemed to be the main dancing areas, with the kitchen holding the majority of the alcohol. Also, like the last party, some people managed to be dancing in the craziest spots. It was only his second party, but Quentin was beginning to think he was becoming some sort of expert at these things. 

"Not in the liquor department, though," Quentin said, looking at Claudette.

"What?" She asked, raising one of her eyebrows. 

"The liquor department, not an expert at that yet," Quentin clarified. He had not realized the other things were a monologue in his head and not something he said aloud to Claud and Kate. 

"Umm, okay..." Claudette's voice trailed off, "do you want us to show you?" 

"Yes, please," Quentin nodded, following Claudette and Kate into the kitchen, the booze arranged as nicely as the last party.

"Okay, so I think fireball is a pretty safe bet when it comes to taking shots for little babies like yourself," Claudette started explaining to him. He wasn't sure if he should've been insulted by that comment, but he let it slide. 

"Maybe we should do some mixed drinks today," Kate suggested, grabbing a bottle of vodka and pouring some into a red solo cup. "We all have classes tomorrow, let's not get too crazy."

"How do you know what kind of alcohol to mix with what drinks?" Quentin asked as Kate poured some Sprite into the cup that had vodka. 

"I mean, technically, it's up to you and whatever you like. But, rule of thumb is the light liquors mix with their light drinks, and dark liquors mix with the dark drinks," Claudette explained as she poured some rum and coke into her cup. 

"Also," Kate chimed in as she started to take a sip of her drink, "try to avoid mixing liquors. That's how you get really fucked up. And it usually leaves a pretty wicked hangover when you mix them, too."

"I feel like I should be taking notes," Quentin said, nodding slowly and looking between the drinks.

"Here, try mine," Claudette handed him her cup, "rum and coke tastes like vanilla coke, I swear."

Quentin looked at the dark liquid for a second before trying a sip, the soda and liquor filling his tastes buds. "Oh, wow," Quentin replied, eyes wide, "that's really good. And it does taste like vanilla coke."

"Told you," Claudette nodded triumphantly, "here, try and make yourself one."

Quentin grabbed a red solo cup from the counter before wrapping his hand around the rum handle. Something about the act of actually doing it frightened him. Maybe it was because they were underaged, or maybe it was that he was given the free will to put as much liquor in as he wanted. But either way, something was unsettling about having the power to make himself a drink.

But Quentin did it. He pushed himself past the feeling of uneasy and powered the alcohol into the cup.

"Damn, that's a lot," Claudette and Kate laughed, both smiling and staring at him with big eyes, "that's going to be a strong drink."

"Oh, shit, did I pour too much?" Quentin asked, genuinely concerned for a second.

"Maybe a little, but the great thing about rum and coke is that just makes it have more of a vanilla flavor," Claudette reassured him. "take a sip."

Quentin did as she suggested, taking a much more giant gulp than he meant to. "Oh, god," he coughed after swallowing the beverage, "yeah, it's a little strong."

"That's alright, that just means you'll get more drunk, more quickly," Kate winked, nudging him with her elbow. 

"And that's a good thing...?" Quentin half said, half asked, his head cocked. 

"Usually, yes," Kate assured him, "now drink up."

The three of them clanked plastic cups and chugged a little of their drinks. Quentin regretted putting as much rum as he did in the container because the taste of alcohol was strong. Too strong. A bit of the liquor dripped past his lip and down his chin. He wiped it off with the back of his hand.

"That is strong," Quentin grimaced at his drink, "I think I went a little overboard with this one."

"You'll be fine," Claudette patted his back, her smile quickly turning into a frown. "Oh, no."

"What?" Quentin asked, turning around to follow her gaze. 

Quentin's heart sank a little once he finally realized why Claudette said what she said. Sitting on the couch in the living room was Steve. A girl was hanging off him, and his arm was wrapped around her shoulder. A little part of Quentin wanted to go over there and confront him because he was angry, but another part of him was sad to see Steve with someone else, and a girl, no less. 

"Oh," Kate's voice trailed off as she saw what they saw, "I'm sorry, Quentin."

"No... no, it's okay," Quentin frowned, shaking his head, "I should've known better than to have been crushing on this guy. He sure seemed the type."

"Still, it's okay to be sad," Claudette reassured him, rubbing his back, "what he did was kinda shitty."

"You should say something," Kate said, stepping up next to him, "that's wrong."

"No, I don't think he should say something," Claudette stepped in front of both of them, "we don't know this guy, and everyone's been consuming alcohol. We don't know if he's violent or not when he's drunk, or just in general. It's best to avoid it for now."

"I can take him," Kate scoffed, "trust me."

"That makes... logical sense," Quentin agreed, nodding slightly, "but Kate's right, it was shitty." 

"I also agree with that, but it's better to be safe than sorry," Claudette told them, looking between the two.

"I mean, Kate says she can take him," Quentin pointed out, "I'm inclined to believe her."

"I-" Claudette started before Kate cut her off.

"Oh, yeah, I can take him," Kate nodded, looking Steve up and down, "he's got some muscle for sure, but he's still a skinny boy when it comes to fighting." 

Quentin gestured to Kate. "I mean... are you telling me you don't believe her?" 

"It's not that I don't believe her," Claudette sighed loudly, putting her head in her hand, "it's just we shouldn't be trying to start something right here."

Before anyone could say anything else, Steve and Quentin made eye contact from across the two rooms. For a second, Quentin's heart skipped a beat, but the reality of the situation came crashing down. Quentin frowned and turned away quickly, walking out of view of Steve and taking a seat in one of the chairs. He took a generous gulp of his rum and coke, not even grimacing from it this time. The ticking of the clock drowning out the other noises of the party. 

"You okay?" Claudette asked, tenderly touching his shoulder. 

"Yeah," Quentin nodded solemnly, "it was a mistake coming here. Part of me knew he was going to be here."

"But still, it's not right," Kate shook her head, sitting in the chair next to Quentin, "fuck him, let's just have fun."

"Not fuck him like that," Claudette coughed awkwardly, adjusting her glasses, "obviously."

"Hey, Quentin," Steve's voice sounded from around the corner, Quentin's heart skipping a beat, "where are you?" 

"Is that him?" Kate asked, shaking her head. "I'm gonna kick his ass."

"Quentin?" Steve asked, his voice sounded clearly over the sound of the ticking. Steve's head poked around the corner. 

Quentin crossed his arms and looked at the floor. "What do you want?"

"Hey," Steve said, walking up to them, "I didn't know you'd be here."

"Yeah, well, I am," Quentin mumbled, looking up slightly but avoiding eye contact. 

"Can I sit?" Steve asked, pointing to the chair next to him.

"No," Kate replied immediately, crossing her arms. 

"If Quentin is alright with it," Claudette said, putting her hand on Kate's shoulder and giving her a look to stand down. 

"Fine," Quentin huffed, "you can sit."

"Thanks," Steve grinned, sitting on the opposite side of Kate. 

"I can talk to him alone, guys," Quentin told Kate and Claudette, "it's alright."

"You sure?" Kate asked with a frown. 

"Yeah, I don't want you guys to have to worry about me, you're supposed to be here to have fun," Quentin smiled faintly at them. 

"You're our friend, Quentin. We'll stay nearby, okay?" Claudette reassured him, giving him her bright smile. 

"Thanks," Quentin smiled back at her. Claudette's smile was infectious. 

Kate stood up reluctantly, following Claudette to the other side of the kitchen. 

"What's up?" Steve asked with a smile on his face, the steady tick-tock getting quieter.

Quentin exhaled through his nose before speaking, simmering down. "How are you acting so like, nonchalant?" 

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, the smile fading from his face. 

"You've ignored all my texts for the last few days," Quentin shook his head, breaking eye contact with Steve. 

"I'm sorry, I was busy with my classes," Steve frowned. Something about the frown made Quentin feel bad. 

"No, I get it," Quentin nodded, "but now you're here at this party, and you're with some girl." 

"No, well, I'm not like with her, with her," Steve told him, "she was just here."

"Regardless," Quentin cleared his throat, moving the conversation on, "it just makes me feel shitty that you ghosted me, and then I see you here with a girl."

"I didn't ghost you! I just haven't gotten back to you yet," Steve told him, "and I don't know that girl, she kinda just came up to me." 

"And you put your arm around her as she was hanging off you?" Quentin asked, his voice monotone. 

"W-Well..." Steve stammered a little, "she's pretty, I mean... but that's not the point. I would rather be here with you."

"Really? Would you?" Quentin huffed, taking another generous gulp of his too strong drink. "Because you didn't answer any of my texts, and that girl is super pretty so-" 

"But I think you're pretty too," Steve cut him off, "in a... different way."

"What do you mean?" Quentin asked, narrowing his eyes a little. 

"What I mean is that I'd rather be kissing your lips instead of hers," Steve smirked slightly, "because I like you more than her."

"Um..." Quentin gulped, his cheeks burning, "well, thank you...?" 

"Anytime," Steve grinned at him, "and for real, I'm sorry for not getting back to you sooner. I was super busy for a few days that I didn't reply, and then I felt like too much time had passed to text you. I kinda figured you wouldn't still be interested."

"Really?" Quentin asked, their eyes meeting for a second, a spark tingling down his spine. 

"Yeah," Steve nodded, smiling a bit, "so... do you?"

"I mean..." Quentin cleared his throat, sitting up in his chair, "I don't know..."

"What's on your mind?" Steve asked, scooting a little closer to Quentin. 

"It's just... do you want me, or do you not?" Quentin finally gained the courage to ask. "Because I heard one thing, and now I hear another." 

Steve was quiet for a moment, the two of them just staring into each other's eyes. The sounds from the clock were deafening, ticking in time with his pulse. Quentin's heart pounded against his ribs as he awaited Steve's answer, completely unsure how the guy would answer. The house was hot, it was 10 pm, and it felt like summer. 

"I do," Steve said finally, nodding as if to confirm his decision to both of them, "like, we don't really know each other yet, but I would like to get to know you."

"Even when you could say the same thing to that pretty girl you were with?" Quentin asked, pointing back to the living room. 

"Hey," Steve interrupted him, placing his hand on Quentin's shoulder, "yes, I like girls too, but I want you, not her."

Even though the house was hot, Quentin felt a different kind of warmth in his chest. Quentin looked away anxiously. "So... what do we do now?" He asked Steve, slowly looking back to the guy. 

"Well, right now, I would definitely like to kiss you," Steve said, a tiny smile spreading on his face, "if you'll let me."

Quentin smiled back, his cheeks burning again. "I-I um..." he stammered, looking directly into Steve's eyes, "I'd like that a lot."

"Come here," Steve told him, voice low. He slid his hand behind Quentin's head and gently pulled him in for a kiss. 

Quentin immediately melted beneath the man's touch and lips. Something about the softness and tenderness of Steve's lips was almost overwhelming, his sense sent to high alert. Quentin stopped fighting the feeling and gave himself up to Steve, wrapping his arms around Steve's shoulders and leaning in for an even deeper kiss. 

"Did you get better at kissing the last few days?" Steve asked when they finally pulled away from each other. "Have you been kissing other guys?" 

"What? N-No!" Quentin stammered, taken aback by the question. 

"I'm just teasing you," Steve chuckled, wrapping one of his arms around Quentin's waist and pulling him and the chair closer, "I think I just missed your lips."

"I think I missed yours too," Quentin smiled, his eyes moving along every inch of Steve's face, taking in every detail. 

"Well, don't look too hard, you'll see the blemishes," Steve laughed, turning his face away from Quentin.

"No," Quentin shook his head, a smile spreading across his face, "there are none. Except for you not texting me back, there's one."

Steve choked a little, turning back to Quentin. "I'm sorry! How about I make it up to you by taking you on a real date?"

"Right now?" Quentin asked, still smiling.

"W-Well, no," Steve replied, seeming genuinely taken off guard, "just whenever you're free next." 

Quentin thought on that for a couple of seconds before nodding. "Deal." 

"Can I get another kiss now?" Steve asked, a sly smile forming on his face. "I miss your kiss already."

"Me too," Quentin agreed, leaning in and pressing his lips against Steve's. 

As they were pulling away from each other, their lips brushed together again, sparks flew, it was like electricity. And for the first time all night, it was quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope u enjoyed the chapter! keep an eye out for my next chapter on my other fic, that's the one going up next :) also, i've been toying with the idea of making a discord server for my fics, and for games possibly. i thought it would be cool if there was a place people could connect and talk about the fic, or just the ship in general with others that like it or are passionate about it. i could also announce my progress on chapters and let u guys know the second i update one! and i could get to know some of u guys and vice versa! nothing too set in stone yet but i'll give a definte answer by the time my other fic gets a chapter update. until then, love u guys <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI MY BEAUTIES!! it's been a MINUTE alright, but im finally back with a new chapter!! i was terribly ill for days and then trying to play catch up after that left me strung thin with all my work and trying to write this, so my apologies :( i'll try not to take so long for the next chapter. BUT i just wanna say that seeing people comment on my fics literally makes my whole day. im so happy u guys enjoy my works and i hope u continue to enjoy it!! love u guys <3 
> 
> PS i started that discord server if you're interested in joining! still building my empire of u cuties   
> discord link: https://discord.gg/8eTtaCh

"AH! What!" Quentin shouted, sitting upright and looking around.

"Can you not scream in my ear, please?" Jake groaned, standing next to Quentin's bed. 

"Oh, god, sorry," Quentin apologized, looking away sheepishly.

"No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Jake chuckled, shuffling over to his bed and sitting down. He, too, was only wearing boxers. Quentin never really realized it because he always woke up and left before Jake did.

"No, it's fine," Quentin waved him off, yawning, "I was having a bad dream anyway, so I should be thanking you."

"Oh, Jesus, please don't be thanking me for waking you up," Jake laughed, putting his hand on his head, "all I do is give you attitude for waking me up. Now I feel bad."

"No, no! Don't feel bad, I was sorta joking," Quentin laughed, now realizing he was shirtless and pulled the covers up to his neck. "Anyway, did you need something?"

"Oh, yeah," Jake's head perked up, "did you move my books that were on the kitchen table?"

"I don't... think so," Quentin answered slowly, trying to recall if he did move them or not, "I'm not sure I even saw them." 

"Aw, shit, I hope I didn't leave them at my girlfriend's place," Jake sighed, standing back up, "she went back home to visit family for a few days, and I need them for my class today." 

"Does she have a dormmate? Call her and ask her to call her dormmate for you," Quentin suggested, watching him pace around the room. 

"That's genius! You're a genius, Quentin!" Jake exclaimed, giving Quentin a quick hug and jumping back into his bed to call his girlfriend.

"I did not know we were at the hugging level of our friendship," Quentin chuckled, slightly awkwardly. 

"Of course, dude," Jake replied without looking up from his phone. 

Well, who was he to argue with that? "Alright," Quentin smiled.

"Your hair is cute, by the way," Jake pointed out, glancing up from his phone briefly. 

"No!" Quentin pulled the blanket over his head. "Don't look at it! It's even worse than usual because of the bedhead."

"What! It's cute! I don't know why you always cover it with a beanie. It's like a mix between curly and straight, it's super cute," Jake laughed. Quentin couldn't see his facial expression, being under the blanket, but he knew exactly the face he was making regardless. 

"Anyway," Quentin cleared his throat from beneath the covers, "don't you have to call your girlfriend or something." 

"I do, yes," Jake agreed, "but I don't think she's awake yet." 

"Well, isn't that annoying," Quentin said, laying back down but keeping his head covered. 

"It is," Jake agreed again.

"Hey, how come I haven't met her yet?" Quentin asked, poking his head out. 

"I didn't know you wanted to," Jake said, still looking at his phone, one elbow keeping him propped up. 

"I mean... it's not that I do or do not want to, specifically," Quentin teased, a tiny smirk on his face, "but she is your girlfriend, and I would like to meet her." 

"Oh, do you need to approve of her?" Jake asked with a little smirk on his face.

"Of course I do," Quentin smiled back at him, "gotta make sure she treats you right." 

"She does, she's amazing," Jake smiled dreamily, "I think you'd love her."

"That's great! I do hope we can meet someday then," Quentin grinned, showing off his pearly whites.

"Yeah, I'll try to find a time when she's back from visiting her family," Jake promised him, a dopey smile still on his face.

"Awesome," Quentin chuckled, laying his head on the pillow, "now it's time for me to pull a you say let me go back to sleep." 

"Yeah, I guess I'll let you go back to sleep," Jake teased, "I'll go to the living room."

"Mmm, night," Quentin mumbled into the pillow as he left, already starting to fall back asleep. 

"Well, it's morning, but goodnight," Jake chuckled as he closed the door behind. 

Finally, Quentin could go back to sleep, the ticking of the clock rhythmically lulling him into slumber. 

"I don't understand how anyone dresses for anything," Quentin sighed loudly, pulling different shirts from his closet. 

"Well, I think there's something deeper to that statement that we can dissect," Claudette nodded from his bed, "but we'll save that for later." 

"Your bathroom is SO nice," Kate shouted from outside the bedroom. 

"Thanks," Quentin mumbled, looking at his clothes still, "what do people wear on dates? You always look cute, Claud, how do you do it?" 

"I love the clock in here, it's pretty," Kate continued, poking her head in the door, "and it smells so nice." 

"What?" Quentin asked, snapping back to reality and looking over at her.

"You're bathroom," she repeated herself, "it's nice."

"Oh... oh! Thank you," Quentin replied, finally comprehending what she was saying. "I just followed what my mom always did at our house when I was little." 

"It's so cute in here," Kate smiled, going back into the bathroom. 

"Hmm," Claudette nodded slowly, squinting a little before pushing her glasses up her nose, "that's good to know. Anyway, I think you're cute enough as you are, honestly. Like, getting a cute outfit only elevates how cute you already are. You could dress in, almost anything, and I think you'd be okay." 

"You know, Jake said the same thing to me when I was picking out an outfit for the party when I first went to meet Steve," Quentin mused, "I need the bean-"

"No!" Claudette cut him off. "No beanie today. This is like a first date, you're not wearing a beanie."

"But... but..."Quentin stammered, grabbing at the beanie on his head, "you said I looked cute no matter what I wore."

"I lied," Claudette glared at him, crossing her arms. 

"Oh, my god, that's mean!" Quentin crossed his arms as well. 

"I didn't actually lie, just don't wear the beanie for today," Claudette told him, "only if for the night. Just this once. Next time you can, but for a first date, you shouldn't." 

"Ugh, fine," Quentin groaned, sitting next to Claudette.

"Come on, take it off," Claudette held her hand out, wiggling her fingers, "hand it over." 

"But... but..." Quentin gulped, pulling the beanie down further on his head.

"No buts, hand it over," Claudette kept her hand out, "we have to work on fixing your hair before you go out." 

"Okay," Quentin sighed loudly, pulling the hat off his head and revealing his messy mop.

"Alright," Claudette said, setting the beanie down next to her as she stood to assess the situation, "this isn't so bad. I mean, it looks a little messy now because of the hat, but we can fix that." 

"Oh, that's nothing," Kate said as she walked into the room, a cup of coffee in her hand, "you should see my hair in the morning. I can get that under control for you."

"D-Did you make coffee with our coffee maker?" Quentin asked, pointing to the cup in her hand.

"Yeah," Kate nodded, taking a sip, "it's good, thanks for asking." 

"Yeah, she does that," Claudette turned back to him, "she says if you invited her into your home, then what's the big deal with her making coffee for herself. She doesn't want to be rude by asking." 

"I feel like it's ruder to just do it yourself instead of asking..." Quentin thought aloud, "I mean, I don't care. I just think that it's funny."

"You two were talking, I didn't want to interrupt your appointment," Kate explained, taking another sip, "it's how I was raised in Texas. If you've invited me into your home, then what's the big deal, you know?" 

"Oh, I know," Quentin smiled as he nodded, looking over to Claudette, who was apologizing with her eyes. He had no idea what she was talking about. 

"You're both white, she can probably help you more than I can," Claudette said, nodding slowly. "Okay, so your hair is going to be the most challenging part... the outfit shouldn't take too long, honestly. I saw something in the closet that would look really good, actually." 

"Wait, really?" Quentin asked, his eyes lighting up a little. "What was it?" 

"Go with Kate first so she can help you with your hair," Claudette told him, shooing him off the bed, "let me look through your stuff while you guys do that."

"Come on, cowboy," Kate grabbed his arm and pulled him to the bathroom.

"Hey, wait! You're hurting my arm," Quentin complained as she closed the door behind them.

"You're fine," Kate waved him off, "now let's see... what product do you use for your hair?" 

"Uh..." Quentin rubbed the back of his head, "the beanie?" 

"Oh, lord," Kate shook her head, "okay, that's fine..." 

"Wait, I think Jake has some hair stuff he uses," Quentin told her, opening one of the little drawers, "he has really nice hair." 

"You do too," Kate nodded, admiring it, "do you mind if I touch it?" 

"Yeah, you don't have to ask," Quentin chuckled a little.

"No, I do. Direct consent is so important," Kate said, touching his hair. 

"Oh, well, I definitely agree with that," Quentin replied, nodding in agreement. 

"Did you shower and wash your hair today?" Kate asked him, running her fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, I did like an hour ago," Quentin responded, trying his hardest not to let the sleepy feeling take over. He always got so relaxed when someone would touch his hair, even during haircuts. 

"I figured, it's still damp," Kate squinted her eyes as she parted the hair in different ways, "you shouldn't put things like hats or beanies on until your hair is dry. It'll really frizz up your hair." 

"I don't have to worry about that if I always have the beanie on," Quentin pointed out, watching her move his hair around. 

"Unfortunately," Kate started, "you can't always have the beanie on." 

"Why not?" Quentin asked her. 

"Well... what do you do when it's ninety degrees out?" She asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"Sweat...?" Quentin asked more than said it.

"That sounds unpleasant," Kate grimaced, "also gross." 

"Yeah, I know," Quentin frowned, "but I don't know what to do with my hair."

"That's what I'm here to help with," Kate smiled warmly at him. "Okay, so where is this product that your roommate uses?" 

"Here," Quentin grabbed it from the drawer. "I hope he doesn't mind me using it." 

"He'll be fine," Kate reassured him, flipping open the cap and putting some of the hair product in her hand, "this is some good stuff, too." 

"Fuck, I hope he doesn't get mad," Quentin chuckled nervously. He didn't think Jake would, but he didn't really know him well enough yet to be sure. 

"We don't need a lot," Kate informed him, rubbing the hair gel into her fingers a little before applying it to Quentin's hair. "Luckily, this kind of gel works well when you're hair is still damp." 

It was like Kate was giving Quentin a scalp massage as she worked the product into his hair. She was basically massaging his head and smoothing the hair down that was standing up. It was concerningly relaxing, Quentin wanted to lay down and nap afterward. 

"You have such a cute, natural hairstyle," Kate shook her head, "it's a crime that you hide it with the beanie so much. A lot of people would kill to have hair like yours." 

"I think that's a little dramatic," Quentin chuckled, smiling a little, "I don't think my hair is 'kill someone' nice." 

"Maybe not," Kate laughed, "but it is lovely, you just gotta keep up with it."

"How do you have the time?" Quentin asked, his eyelids drooping as she continued massaging the gel into his hair. 

"Trust me, my hair is like three times as long as yours," Kate laughed with a smile, "and I do my makeup. So you definitely have the time."

"Yeah, you're right..." Quentin's voice trailed off, "I'm just lazy, honestly."

"Ah, there it is," Kate chuckled, applying a little more product, "the truth comes out." 

"Hey, wait a second..." Quentin finally sat up fully and examined himself in the mirror, "my hair doesn't actually look that bad."

"I told you," Kate smiled, washing her hands in the sink, "you just gotta control it a little. Like riding a horse." 

"I don't think that's quite the same..." Quentin said slowly, "but I appreciate your help. You're going to need to show me exactly what you did to get in under control."

"You just need to grab the reins," Kate explained, gently grabbing a few strands of his hair, "and kinda tug it into place. With the product on your hands, obviously."

"Yeah, the curls don't like terrible for once," Quentin's jaw dropped slightly. "Wow, color me impressed."

"Oh, I like that saying. I should use that in a poem sometime," Kate mused, nodding her head slowly. 

"You write?" Quentin asked, looking at her through the mirror.

"Oh, yeah," Kate chuckled awkwardly, "I dabble some poems once and awhile." 

"That's pretty cool, though, I like poems," Quentin told her, "maybe if you're comfortable I could read some of them?" 

"Yeah, they can be pretty personal, but I don't mind," Kate said, "I think writing, especially poems, should be personal. It makes them better."

"I agree," Quentin nodded, "I used to write, but not so much anymore."

"Aww, why not?" Kate asked him.

"Well... I used to get my main inspiration from my dreams," Quentin started, his eyes seeming to get darker as he recalled his past, "but I don't dream much anymore. I mean, I do, but it's mostly just bad dreams or nightmares."

"You can still use those for writing inspirations, though!" Kate exclaimed. "Maybe like a horror writer or something. Or something that scares you." 

"The thing is... nothing scares me anymore, and that's kind of what I'm afraid of," Quentin sighed. "Except for this nightmare... it-it's haunting. It's like it knows I'm not afraid of anything and uses that to its advantage." 

"You're talking like this nightmare is sentient," Kate said, raising an eyebrow slightly, "is it a reoccurring nightmare?" 

"Oh, yeah," Quentin nodded sadly, "it's almost every night."

"That bad, huh?" Kate frowned, sitting on the closed toilet. "Maybe you should see a professional about it?" 

"No!" Quentin snapped defensively, catching Kate by surprise. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just a sensitive subject." 

"No, I'm sorry," Kate apologized, her blue eyes sympathetic, "it wasn't my place to be suggesting that. I just want what's best for you."

"I know, I know, I know," Quentin repeated to himself, nodding nervously. The clock on the wall was ticking louder than usual. 

"Hey," Kate's voice was soft, "let's go back in your room and relax, okay?" 

Quentin nodded cautiously to her, exhaling loudly to try and calm himself down. Kate opened the bathroom door and led him to his bed, sitting him down next to Claudette. 

"Everything alright?" Claudette asked, immediately sensing something was wrong. 

"Yeah, I just fixed his hair," Kate smiled at her, "what do you think?"

"Oh, it looks so cute," Claudette exclaimed, finally noticing it.

"You think so?" Quentin asked, his face turning slightly red from embarrassment. 

"Yes, like actually so good," Claudette smiled, pinching his cheek, "you're so cute I could eat you up. My grandmother used to say that to me."

"I think everyone's did," Quentin laughed, rubbing the spot she just pinched. 

"Okay, so" Claudette started, her tone shifting from lax to in command, "I think I picked out what you should wear tonight."

"You did?!" Quentin jumped up, relieved that he would have something to wear. 

"I didn't know you had this navy blue cardigan," Claudette said, holding up the piece of clothing.

"I... didn't either," Quentin laughed sheepishly, taking the cardigan and holding it.

"We have to go through your wardrobe and see all your clothes because clearly there might be more good stuff if you don't even know about this," Claudette shook her head. 

"Okay..." Quentin nodded slowly. He almost wanted to take notes because she seemed to be the fashion expert around here. "So, what do I do with that? Do I button it up or leave it open?"

"I'm getting there," Claudette reassured him. "You'll leave it unbuttoned and wear this white v-neck shirt under it and with these pants." She pulled the shirt from the closet and handed it to him before pulling the pants from the dresser drawer, second from the bottom. 

"That's all?" Quentin asked, looking between the three articles of clothing. "That doesn't seem too difficult." 

"It's really not, we're keeping it pretty casual but also dressy," Claudette explained, "and you can show off your necklace."

Even at just the mention of his necklace made the metal seem to heat up beneath his shirt. His chest and heart warming as he thought about it. "What about my shoes?" He asked her, looking around to where he kicked them off the night before. 

"I actually found some brown boots in here as well," Claudette said, pulling a pair out from behind the door, "we really need to go through your stuff." 

"Yeah..." Quentin rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "honestly, a lot of the stuff in there is stuff my aunt bought me before I left for college. I haven't worn half of it." 

"That's sweet," Kate said, looking through the closet with Claudette, "she's got a pretty good eye for style herself." 

"Maybe I should've been talking to her then..." Quentin mumbled, holding up the cardigan again. He didn't even know that was a word for a piece of clothing. Showed how much he knew. 

"Anyway," Claudette cleared her throat, "go try it on!" 

"Ahh, I don't know..." Quentin's voice trailed off. He was way too shy to be over here dressing up for them.

"Fashion show!" Kate shouted, grabbing his arm. "You have to! We need to see if you'll look good enough for this date!" 

"Come on, it'll be fun," Claudette said, smiling at him, "you're going to look so cute." 

"Okay, okay," Quentin sighed, grabbing all the clothes and walking into the bathroom to change. 

Before long, he was looking at himself in the mirror. He was kind of impressed. Claudette and Kate were right, he did look excellent. It was casual but fancy. And the clothing really suited his body type. He'd actually never seen himself look as good as he did now. 

"Woah," Claudette's mouth dropped as he entered the room again, "you look SO good!" 

"Oh, stop," Quentin blushed, hiding his face a little, "I don't look that good."

"Uh, yeah, you do," Kate chimed in, "you look great." 

"Oh, you're going to kill this date," Claudette said, laughing a little, "he's gonna be blown away." 

"What if I show him up?" Quentin asked, concerned. 

"Good," Kate nodded, sitting on his bed, "then maybe he'll step up his game."

"Oh, no..." Quentin's voice trailed off. He didn't want to show up Steve or make him feel like he should be dressing better for him. 

"You're fine, baby," Claudette soothed him, "you're gonna go and have a great time." 

"I know, I'm just anxious," he sighed, sitting next to Kate on his bed.

"It's going to be so much fun," Kate promised, putting her arm around his shoulders, "it might be a little nervewracking at first, but you'll love it once you two meet and settle down a bit." 

"You're right," Quentin nodded, repeating the sentiment in his head, "it'll be great." 

Quentin looked between the two girls as they sat on his bed with him. The sun started peeking out from behind the clouds, the golden rays streaming in through the open blinds. Something just felt... right about his with Steve, or maybe something just felt right about Steve. He couldn't quite place it. Even with the warm, fuzzy sensation, Quentin got in his chest and stomach when he thought about Steve, he still felt nervous in a way that couldn't be named. He dreamt last night of a man that read the end of love. But he remembered thinking, even in his dreaming, that it was a good life for some. 

Quentin sat on the bench outside his dorm building, twidling his fingers in his lap. Claudette told him not to go out there and wait because it was winter and it was still cold, but he couldn't help himself. That feeling that he couldn't quite name... the line between excitement and anxiety was blurred growing up so he couldn't differentiate the two. The clock on his wrist ticking louder than usual. 

His heart stopped, and he held his breath when he saw Steve. The guy looked so good. His hair was up like he was from the 80s. He had a leather jacket on, unbuttoned, and underneath he had a fancy brown sweater with a nice pair of dark wash jeans. He looked stunning. So much so that even the ticking from his wristwatch seemed to stop. 

"You're jaw's hanging a little," Steve pointed to him as he strolled up, his signature smirk on his face. "Need me to kiss it closed for you?"

"Woah," Quentin cleared his throat, standing awkwardly, "you look amazing."

"I know how to clean up, I suppose," he laughed, finally walking up to Quentin. "You look great yourself, even your hair is down, it looks cute."

"Thanks," Quentin said, his cheeks heating up a little, "your hair always looks great." 

Steve stepped in, closing the distance, his hands hovering near Quentin's hips. "Hey," his voice was soft, and he smelled sweet, like a fancy cologne. The faint fragrance lingered on the guy's shirt, and his breath hinted at whiskey. "Can I kiss you?" 

Quentin breathed out, biting his lower lip as he stared into Steve's hazel eyes. They were looking more green tonight, the nearby lamp illuminating his face and glinting off of them like an emerald in a cave. 

"Yeah..." Quentin nodded, his hands shaking from holding back from Steve.

Steve wrapped his arms entirely around Quentin's waist, pulling him closer and pressing his lips against Quentin's. Just like before, Quentin felt as though he was melting into Steve because his lips were so soft. Quentin was never one that was very experienced when it came to kissing, so he hoped he was doing alright with Steve. 

"Mmm, I can never get enough of that," Steve chuckled once their lips parted. Quentin could still feel Steve's lips against his own, only barely. Yet, each time they brushed against one another, a tiny tingling sensation lingered, sending zaps of electricity throughout his nervous system. 

"I can't either," Quentin smiled, giving him a little peck on the lips again. He didn't want to move from their position. His hands were on Quentin's hips, and Steve's name was on his lips. It was like his only prayer. 

"So," Steve cleared his throat, his arms still wrapped around Quentin's waist as he swayed them back and forth a little. "Originally, I had a better plan for tonight, but it's colder than I thought it would be. I wish it was warmer because I know a nice place near the river." 

"It's not too cold if you wanted to show it to me," Quentin said, smiling at Steve, wrapping his arms around the guy's shoulders and holding close for more warmth. 

"Yeah?" Steve asked, smiling back. "Alright, bet. I'll take you to it after we get some food 'cause I'm starving." 

"Me too, actually," Quentin said, his stomach grumbling in agreement.

"My friend let me borrow her car tonight, luckily, so we don't have to walk there," Steve chuckled, "because it's too cold to walk to get food and then to the river." 

"Yeah, you know, that is lucky," Quentin nodded, "because I know I'm going to be cold the second you let go of me." 

"Then I won't," Steve smiled, squeezing him a little tighter.

"But... then we can't walk," Quentin pointed out, glancing down at them as they held on to each other.

"Damn... that's true," Steve's voice trailed off, "I mean, I can still put my arm around you."

"I'll take it," Quentin smiled, giving Steve one final kiss before letting go of him. 

Steve's arm was immediately around Quentin's shoulder the second they stopped hugging. Steve was slightly taller than Quentin, not by much, but enough that it was the perfect level of comfort for both of them with Steve's arm around him. Claudette and Kate were right, his anxiety definitely calmed down. But he still got little butterflies in his stomach whenever they made eye contact, or whenever they kissed, or even just holding hands. It was such a strange sensation to feel that way about someone. 

"So," Steve started as they walked toward the closest campus parking lot, "tell me more about yourself." 

"Well, what do you want to know?" Quentin asked, keeping pace with Steve as they walked. 

"Anything," he replied immediately, looking over to Quentin, "everything. I want to get to know you." 

"Well..." Quentin stalled as he thought about something to talk about. 

It was so odd that people could talk about themselves nearly endlessly until they were asked to talk about themselves. Then, all of a sudden, their mind was blank. Quentin could not think of a single thing to say to Steve that would seem, first off, even remotely appealing. And secondly, of any seeming importance. 

"I'm... not that interesting..." Quentin finally admitted, his voice trailing off. 

"Oh, stop," Steve shushed him, "of course you are. And you don't have to sound interesting to me. I want to get to know you, the real you. I've seen enough people that lie to me to sound interesting or cool or whatever. I don't want that shit, I want to know you."

Those words made the butterflies come fluttering back into his stomach. That sentiment seemed so genuine and sincere. A warm smile spread across Quentin's face the more he thought about it. 

"What are you smiling about, cutie?" Steve asked, a grin spreading across his face. 

"Nothing..." Quentin cleared his throat, still smiling like an idiot. 

"It can't be nothing if you're smiling like that," Steve laughed, pulling him closer as they walked.

"I don't know, what you said just seemed... sweet, and genuine," Quentin finally admitted, too embarrassed to look at Steve as he said it. 

"About not lying to seem cool?" He asked, sounding a little confused. "It wasn't really meant to be sweet, I don't think. I just want to know you, not some made-up version of you." 

"I know," Quentin nodded as they neared the parking lot, "but it was. It was sincere, and I like that." 

"I'm glad then," Steve nodded triumphantly, "sweet like cinnamon is what I want to be to you." 

"Isn't... isn't cinnamon a little more spicy than sweet?" Quentin asked, narrowing his eyes as he thought about it. 

"Exactly," Steve chuckled, leaning in close and kissing Quentin on the lips, "I want to be both with you."

Having heard Steve say that lit a different fire in his stomach this time, one he hadn't felt for someone in a long time. It caught him off guard as well because he wasn't really expecting Steve to say like that. Though it was very on-brand for him. And it's not like he was opposed to that idea of Steve, either. Not by a long shot. 

"Oh, wow, this is a nice car," Quentin gaped, touching the cold metal with his fingers. 

"Yeah, it's my friend Nancy's car," Steve said, unlocking it and opening the passenger side door, "her parents are kinda rich." 

"Damn, can she pay my tuition?" Quentin joked, getting into the car as Steve closed the door behind him. 

"Yeah, right," Steve laughed as he got into the driver's side and started the engine, "I asked her family that too, and they said no." 

"That's just rude," Quentin shook his head as he buckled himself in, "you gonna buckle?" 

"It's not that far of a drive, I'll be fine," Steve waved him off, putting the car in reverse. 

"No. Steve, buckle up," Quentin told him, his voice serious.

"But-" Steve started.

"No buts, buckle up, it's dangerous," Quentin scolded, glaring at him.

"Fine, fine," Steve sighed, chuckling slightly and pulling the belt over his chest, clicking it in. "You're kinda hot when you're demanding like that."

"Stop," Quentin choked, his face turning bright red.

"And you're cute when you blush," Steve smirked, making him blush more. 

"I can't with you," Quentin said, covering his face with his hands. 

"Come here," Steve chuckled again, "give me a kiss. I miss it." 

Quentin uncovered his face, a huge grin on it as he did. He leaned over the middle compartment and kissed Steve on the lips. Quentin wanted to savor it and kiss him longer, but Steve was driving. Just the thought of them crashing because he kissed Steve too long made him chuckle. That would be the most embarrassing thing to have to explain to someone had it happened. So he decided he would behave himself and let Steve drive. 

"One more," Steve said, a smile tugging at his lips.

"You're going to crash the car," Quentin nudged him, shaking his head.

"Come on, I'll be fine! Just one more kiss," Steve teased, glancing between the road and Quentin. 

"Okay, fine," Quentin laughed, leaning in again and pressing his lips against Steve's. 

Quentin's eyelids drooped the moment their lips touched one another. There was something utterly enticing about this guy's lips, like some sort of spell was cast upon him each and every time they kissed. The last thing in the world he wanted was for their mouths to part, but he knew he couldn't keep their lips together forever, especially since he was driving. 

"Mmm," Steve hummed before their lips parted, "I have to admit, whatever spell you've cast on me worked." 

"I wish I had that power," Quentin smiled at him, settling back into his seat, "but I don't. If anything, it's you that cast a spell on me."

"That may be true," Steve grinned, his perfect white teeth and handsome feature's making the butterflies return to Quentin's stomach. 

How could someone be so perfect? 

"I did not think you could eat that much," Steve laughed loudly as they left the restaurant, "you're so skinny, I expected a smaller appetite out of you."

"I just have a fast metabolism is all," Quentin half bragged, "I think you at more than me, though." 

"Well, I work out too, can't you tell?" Steve smirked, flexing his bicep beneath his jacket. 

Quentin blushed a little as he felt the guy's muscles ripple beneath the coat. "I can definitely tell because you look outstanding. And it's not like too much muscle either." 

"Oh, yeah, I never cared much to bulk up and look super ripped, I always liked the toned look a lot more," Steve explained, "I think toning suits my body more."

"I agree," Quentin nodded, glancing up and down Steve's body.

"Oh, shut it," Steve chuckled, wrapping his arm around Quentin's shoulder and pulling him in for a kiss. "You still up to see that place I wanted to show you?"

"Absolutely," Quentin grinned, wanting to spend as much time as possible with Steve. 

"I picked this restaurant because it's actually not oo far from here," Steve told him, steering them away from the parking lot towards the nearby forest preserve. 

"You're not going to murder me, are you?" Quentin asked, glancing over to Steve with a slight smile on his face.

"No! I'm not going to murder you!" Steve laughed out loud, giving his head a little shake once he stopped. 

"Are you sure? Because that's what a murderer would say," Quentin pointed out. 

"That is true, you got me there," Steve nodded in defeat, "but no, I am not going to murder you. There's a little place by the river I like to go to when I have time. Usually, when it's warmer, and not winter, but we don't have that luxury right now." 

"You said it's not far?" Quentin asked, his nose was already starting to get cold. 

"What! Cold already?" Steve asked, his face close to Quentin's, his lips closer still. Quentin wasn't sure if he imagined it, but he could've sworn his breath still smelled like whiskey. "It's not too far, I promise." 

Steve led them through a path in the woods, the branches sticking out from atop the trees and blocking most of the moonlight. The snow beneath their feet managed to reflect enough light to keep things visible. It was beautiful. Just seeing the forest covered in glittering snow was breathtaking. 

"Ta-da! Here we are!" Steve said with outstretched arms as they walked into a snow-covered clearing. 

A frozen river ran in the middle of it, a gap in the trees above allowed for the gentle moonlight to sprinkle down. The air was oddly pleasant, too. The breeze in the clearing had a sweet smell to it, reminding Quentin of the spring rain, or the sun, or summer days. It was like this place existed in a different plane of reality, retaining the beauty of winter and the warmth of summer all in one. It was mystical.

"Woah," Quentin breathed, stepping out from beneath Steve's arm and venturing a few steps forward, "this place is beautiful." 

"I told you," Steve said, stepping up and wrapping his arms around Quentin's waist from behind and kissing his neck. 

"Hey," Quentin smiled, his voice was as gentle as the light on the snow. 

"I really like you," Steve mumbled, giving his neck more little kisses, "which, honestly, is kind of a surprise to me. I don't usually like someone this quickly."

The tiny butterflies returned to Quentin's stomach, a shiver running down his spine as Steve's soft lips sent warm sparks of electricity all throughout his body. A stark contrast to the bitter winter air, even if it was seemingly hotter in this clearing. 

"I really like you too..." Quentin gulped nervously, his face heating up as he shifted himself to look at Steve. 

"Well," Steve started, wrapping his arms around Quentin's waist and pulling him in for a kiss. His lips were so soft it almost seemed unbelievable, and they had the sweet taste of mango. And still and aftertaste of whiskey. "Where do you want to go now?"

"Like after we leave here?" Quentin asked as he moved his arms around Steve's shoulders. 

"No," Steve laughed lightly, "I mean, we can go somewhere after here if you want, but I meant where do you want this to go now?" 

"Oh..." Quentin blinked a few times, examining Steve's face, his hazel eyes bright in the pale moonlight, "I think... I think I know what I'd want out of this... do you?"

"I also think I know what I want," Steve smiled at him, showing off his pearly whites, "I just don't want to rush into this with you. Something feels... special about this, about you, and I have a tendency to rush these things. And I don't want to do that with you." 

Quentin's face started heating up, even more than before, all the way to the tips of his ears. How could this guy, the one Quentin was so confident was a fuck boy, be the sweetest guy he'd ever talked to? A smile slowly crept along his face as he continued to look into Steve's hazel eyes. He didn't mind what they called themselves, or how fast or slow they took to become something official, he just wanted to be with Steve in any way he could. 

"Honestly," Quentin started, still grinning like an idiot, "I don't care what we call ourselves, or when we begin to call ourselves something. I just want to be with you. So if that means taking things slow or diving headfirst into the deep end, I'm here for it, for you." 

"That makes me happy," Steve said, a big, dumb grin spreading across his face as well, "I want to do this right with you, so maybe let's not dive headfirst into the deep end just yet." 

"Okay," Quentin nodded, grinning at Steve. He leaned in to kiss the guy, their lips hovering near one another but not quite touching. The tiny sparks of electricity seemed to jump between their mouths. 

"Do it," Steve teased, pulling his head back a little, so Quentin had to chase his lips. 

"Don't tempt me," Quentin teased back, kissing Steve forcefully once he finally caught his lips with his own. Steve nipped at Quentin's bottom lip before he could pull away, causing him to yelp in surprise. "Hey!"

"What?" Steve smiled smugly, nipping at his lower lip again. "I didn't do anything wrong." 

"No, you didn't," Quentin smiled back, leaning in and kissing Steve again. Steve nipping at his lip actually kind of turned him on. "I think I liked it."

"Oh, yeah?" Steve's smug expression turned into a smirk. "I do think I have some other things that might get that same reaction." 

"Slow your roll, cowboy," Quentin chuckled, kissing Steve's jaw a little. 

"I like it like that too," Steve grinned, winking at him. 

"Steven!" Quentin's face turned bright red. "Behave yourself!" 

"Mmm," Steve made the sound as he pressed his lips against Quentin's again. "I can't when I'm with you!" He said when he finally pulled away from Quentin's lips. 

"So, I take it you're big on PDA?" Quentin asked, hoping he would say that he was. 

"My biggest downfall," Steve shook his head, "I can't keep my hands to myself when I'm with you."

"That's fine with me as long as we don't overdo it and make people uncomfortable," Quentin grinned at him, glad that Steve was also a fan of PDA. 

"Oh, no, I would never take it to that extent," Steve shook his head, swaying them back and forth. 

"That's good," Quentin said, moving his arms and laying his head on Steve's shoulder instead. 

"Well... so do I introduced you to my friends as my boyfriend?" Steve mused, playing with Quentin's hair. 

"I-" Quentin choked, lifting his head to look at Steve, "I thought we decided not to dive into the deep end!"

"I know, I know," Steve smiled, "but what do I introduce you as?"

"I mean..." Quentin hesitated, thinking on it as a tiny smile spread on his lips, "I don't mind introducing you like that if you don't." 

"I definitely don't," Steve replied immediately, pulling Quentin's head back on his shoulder and kissing his forehead.

"Mmm," Quentin shut his eyes as Steve began playing with his hair again, "then maybe we should just go by boyfriends." 

"I think I'd like that," Steve nodded, still soothing Quentin by playing with his hair. 

"I would too," Quentin mumbled, nearly falling asleep even though he was standing up and also standing in the snow. 

So they continued standing there, ignoring January and her harsh weather for the time being. It was late, the clearing was hot, and it didn't feel like winter. Steve opened the door to so many possibilities, an endless summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope it wasnt too long for u!! working on the david/dwight one next :) keep an eye out


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS SORRY ITS BEEN SO LONG. i hope your guys like this chapter! it gets little....... INTERESTING near the end. enjoy my beauties <3
> 
> ALSO join my discord and say hi!! <3  
> link: https://discord.gg/8eTtaCh

"Don't worry, Quentin, he's going to help you out," the voice sounded muffled and distant like it was trying to speak underwater. 

"No, I don't wanna see him," another voice spoke, sounding the same as the first, very distant and underwater, but it wasn't his own. 

"Stop whining, he's going to help you," the first voice spoke again, sounding a type of anger that left Quentin shaking.

The sound of something slamming made Quentin jump, that paralyzing fear only deepening itself into his mind. Before he could think any more about it, the sounds of waves washing over him shifted the scene to something much, much worse. 

"Hey, Quentin, how've you been?" The sinister, distorted voice instilling terror in him.

The sound of metal scraping on metal left him absolutely frozen in fear, the dread was nauseating. Somehow, this voice wasn't as muffled and distant as the others. It was much closer, and it sliced through the submerged discord that was the white noise. Sharp metal glinted into view, the blades gleaming under the light and the nearby needles threatening his space and safety. 

"Not talking again today, are we?" The perverted voice's wry mouth now coming into view as the panic began to overwhelm him, his heart slamming against his ribcage. "I know your father said you were having trouble sleeping again. Is it because of what your mother did?" 

The voice's face emerged from the darkness, joining the knives and needles in the intense and blazing light. The man's face twisted into a sinister smile as he looked at Quentin. Quentin's heart was beating so fast he couldn't hear anything but the blood circulating in his veins as the man picked up one of the needles and crept towards him. Time seemed to go in slow motion as the man approached, the ticking of the clock on the wall growing increasingly louder with each step. 

"You're going to sleep like a baby tonight, kid," the metallic voice giggled as it prepared the needle near him. "In your dreams, everything is alright. Tomorrow dawns like a suicide. But you'll sleep like a baby tonight." 

The man continued cackling as the needle neared his vein, the sun blazing and searing him with pain. 

Quentin jolted awake in a cold sweat, gasping for air and clutching his chest.

Jake groaned from the other bed, opening one of his eyes to look at Quentin. "You alright, man?" 

Quentin was still gasping for air, trying to settle himself down. "Y-Yeah," he choked out, still holding his chest tightly, "I'm fine." 

"Your nightmares seem pretty serious," Jake said, sitting up onto his elbows, "are you sure you don't want to go see someone?"

"No!" Quentin snapped, Jake's face looking shocked. He immediately felt bad for lashing out, a dark weight in his stomach. "I'm sorry... no, I'm okay." 

"No, you're good, man," Jake waved him off, "I didn't mean to cross any lines. I'm sorry."

"No, no," Quentin shook his head, "don't apologize. You couldn't have known it was a touchy topic for me."

"Well..." Jake started, both eyes searching Quentin's face briefly, "have you tried sleeping pills at least?" 

"No," Quentin frowned, pulling the sheets off of himself, "I don't touch sleeping pills, they mess with my head." 

"Aww, shit, they do?" Jake frowned back at him. 

"Yeah... last time I took them, I dreamt of great white sharks swimming in my bed," Quentin shivered at the memory. He was terrified of the ocean. "And then this killer whale came and tried to sing me to sleep with its lullaby. I thought it was comforting, but then I was thrashing the covers off as it had me in its teeth." 

"Jesus," Jake grimaced, "okay, maybe stay away from the sleeping pills." 

"Yeah, either way, I'm basically screwed," Quentin sighed as he rolled out of bed. 

"But that can't be any worse than the nightmares you're currently having, right?" Jake asked, his hair everywhere as he sat up.

Quentin was silent for a moment, looking down. He wasn't sure, in all honestly. Both types of dreams were haunting, and he didn't know if he could compare the unique kind of terror and horror each one brought. It was like that saying about being stuck in between a rock and a hard place. He learned that it was a dirty business, dreaming. 

"I don't know..." Quentin's voice was quiet. 

"Look, let's go get some coffee and get you up and not thinking about them, huh?" Jake smiled at him. Quentin wasn't sure he'd seen Jake give him such a heartfelt smile before. 

"I do like coffee," Quentin chuckled, rubbing his eyes. 

"Great! Then get ready, so we can go," Jake told him as he got out of bed as well. "I have class later so I can't be out too long, I hope that's okay." 

"Yeah... yeah, that's alright," Quentin smiled a little. It was a sweet sentiment, regardless. 

"How are things going with you and... S..." Jake started, narrowing his eyes, "I wanna say... Scott?" 

"Steve," Quentin grinned, playing with his necklace in his hand. 

"Shit," Jake cursed, shaking his head, angrily, "I was close!"

"You were!" Quentin agreed, still smiling like an idiot. 

"So, how are things with you guys?" Jake asked again, clearing his throat like it was restarting. 

"Honestly... kind of amazing," Quentin smiled, the little butterflies fluttering into his stomach. Just the thought of the guy made him feel anxious. But anxious in a marvelous way. 

"I'm delighted to hear that," Jake smiled at him. 

"Yeah... I'm seeing him tonight," Quentin blushed just thinking about seeing Steve.

"Here are your coffees," the barista brought them over with a smile, "sorry about the wait." 

"Oh, no problem. Hey, I like your tie," Jake complimented the barista. "And your glasses." 

"Thanks!" The barista replied, blushing ever so slightly. 

"Oh, shit, what's up, Jake!" A girl's voice from behind the counter startled Quentin. 

Quentin, Jake, and the barista all turned to look toward the voice. Standing behind the counter was a girl wearing a comfy-looking cardigan. Her black hair was pulled into a neat bun, not a single hair out of place. It was a stark contrast to Jake's hair, who also had it pulled into a bun, but a messy one at that. 

"Min!" Jake exclaimed with a big grin on his face. "I forgot you worked here!" 

"Yup, I do! We only worked on a project together last semester, I don't expect you to remember," the girl named Min laughed. "How the hell are you?" 

"I'm doing well! How have you been?" Jake asked in return. 

"Pretty good, classes this semester are already kicking my ass," Min groaned. 

"God, I feel that," Jake laughed loudly, "my classes are too."

"How are things with your girlfriend?" Min asked. "You have a girlfriend, right?" 

"Eh..." Jake began rubbing the back of his neck. "Honestly... I don't know. Things are... different between us." 

"Oh, no," Min frowned, "what do you mean different?" 

"I don't know... she's not as affectionate as she used to be, and she seems really distant lately. I'm worried," Jake looked down at the coffee in his hand.

"Aww, Jake, I'm sorry," Quentin looked at him, "why didn't you tell me?" 

"We've both just been kinda busy with classes, don't be sorry," Jake looked up at him, forcing a little smile for him. 

"Well, now I feel like an ass for saying how well things were going with Steve," Quentin frowned at him. "I am so sorry."

"No, really, don't be sorry!" Jake chuckled a little. "You didn't know." 

"I'm gonna go back behind the counter," the barista said awkwardly, pointing with his thumb.

"Thanks again," Quentin smiled at him, taking a sip from the coffee through the straw. 

"How do you get cold coffee during the winter?" Jake asked him, one eyebrow raised. 

"It's a gay thing," Quentin replied, waving him off.

"Is it?" Jake asked, smiling a little.

"I don't know, probably," Quentin shrugged, taking another sip. 

"What plans have you and Steve got tonight?" Jake asked, taking a drink from his coffee. 

"I think we're just hanging out at his door," Quentin said, absentmindedly checking his phone as he waited for Steve's text.

"Oh, my," Jake's eyes grew wide, "are you two... you know...?" 

"No! What!" Quentin choked, nearly spitting out his drink. "At least... I don't think so..." 

"Oh, baby," Jake shook his head slowly, "he's inviting you over to his dorm? You sweet, summer child, you. That is a one-way ticket to sex, my friend." 

"What do you mean?" Quentin started sweating a little. "Not necessarily!" 

"Have you... not had sex before?" Jake whispered as he leaned closer to Quentin. 

"Oh, my god, Jake," Quentin's face turned bright red as he glanced around to make sure nobody else heard. 

"I mean, if you haven't, that's totally alright! But I could see why you'd be nervous," Jake nodded in understanding. 

"Shush!" Quentin hissed, his face blazing. "I have had sex before! I just don't want to rush anything with Steve!"

"Oh... oh," Jake's eyes grew wide again. "I see. Well, unfortunately, I think you're in the wrong generation for that. Fucking is like the first base, kissing the second, and holding hands the third." 

"Well, I hate that," Quentin grumbled, crossing his legs.

"Yeah, I can see how that would be pretty unfortunate," Jake nodded in understanding. 

"Enough about me, though," Quentin cleared his throat to change the topic, "what's up with you and your girlfriend?" 

"It's... I don't know," Jake frowned, breaking eye contact, "it's just different now. I'm not sure what's wrong." 

"I'm sorry, Jake," Quentin said again, frowning with Jake. He's never seen him so sad. 

"It's fine, really!" Jake forced a smile. "She's probably just busy is all!" 

"Yeah," Quentin nodded, forcing a smile back, "she's probably just busy." 

"What's wrong, cutie?" Steve asked as he opened the door, pulling him in for a kiss. Quentin had missed the familiar tenderness of Steve's lips. 

"I don't know," Quentin replied once their lips parted, "Jake and his girlfriend are having issues." 

"I'm sorry to hear that, babe," Steve frowned, stepping back from him a little. 

Hearing Steve call him babe brought a little smile to his mouth. "Well, things ARE better now that I'm here with you."

"Are they?" Steve asked with a smirk, walking over to the couch and throwing himself on it. 

"Obviously," Quentin teased, walking in more hesitantly than Steve had. 

"Oh, sorry," Steve sat upright, "I didn't show you around." 

"Oh, you don't have to," Quentin assured him, trying to be a little modest about it. 

"I mean, it's not much, but I still want to," Steve grinned, standing up and grabbing Quentin's hand. "So... this is the living room, where we, uh, live. Over here is the kitchen, where we make food. Though none of us are very good at cooking, so we tend not to do it."

"Nice, nice," Quentin nodded along with him. 

"Here's the bathroom," Steve continued, "unfortunately, there is only one. Tragic, I know. But moving on, here are my roommates two rooms."

Quentin and Steve peered briefly into the messy rooms before moving on. "Sorry, they're messier than I am, if you can believe it. Also, I'm a little buzzed, so if you can ignore the rambling and possible slurring." 

"Started without me, I see," Quentin shook his head, making a little tsk-tsk sound. 

"I definitely can finish with you, though!" Steve grinned, the frown suddenly turning upside down as he realized what he said. "Hold on, I didn't mean it like that."

"It's fine," Quentin chuckled, squeezing Steve's hand in his own, "I know what you meant." 

"My room is all the way at the end," Steve told him as they walked to the very end of the small hallway, "it's also the biggest room. We drew straws, and I won." 

"Were they colored straws?" Quentin asked, only to tease but not to expect a real answer. 

"Actually, they were!" Steve laughed. "I think violet, blue, green, and red." 

"Why... do you remember that?" Quentin laughed with him.

"I'm not sure, sometimes I just remember little things like that," Steve shrugged, flipping the light on in the room. 

"It is, in fact, cleaner in here than it is in your roommate's rooms," Quentin nodded approvingly. "How did you guys get a three-bedroom apartment right off-campus? Aren't these super expensive?" 

"Not as expensive as you'd think," Steve said, "but my buddies and I have... well, wealthier families. So they pay for it for us." 

"Oh, that's pretty cool, though!" Quentin smiled, looking around at the different posters on the wall. 

"Yeah, I guess so," Steve's voice was suddenly monotone. 

"Are you okay?" Quentin asked, turning his gaze to Steve's. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," Steve mumbled, "let's just go back to the living room." 

Quentin frowned as they left his room, shutting off the light behind them and heading down the small hallway back to the kitchen. Was it something he had said?

"Whatcha think?" Steve asked, letting go of Quentin's hand and flopping himself down on the couch. 

"I think it's nice! And pretty spacious, too," he replied, sitting down on the couch. Though much more hesitantly and farther apart from Steve. 

"Oh, c'mere," Steve grinned, reaching over and pulling Quentin closer to him, pressing their lips together. 

He put his arm around Quentin's shoulder, the sparks flying around them as they kissed, the subtle taste of whiskey on his breath. 

"So, cutie," Steve started as their mouths pulled apart, his eyelids drooping lazily as he stared into Quentin's ocean eyes, "what do you wanna watch?" 

"Uh..." Quentin began, his voice a little shaky. He was at a loss for words. 

There was something so rare and intimate with how they were together. Steve's hazel eyes looking lazily into his, the gentle touch of his arm and hand around his shoulders, the taste of their lips pressed together. It was almost overwhelming to his senses. Quentin was so grateful Steve's roommates weren't home because he was flustered beyond belief from Steve. 

"You alright?" Steve asked, concern filling his eyes as they looked between Quentin's eyes. 

"Yeah! Yes," Quentin took a breath, pulling away from Steve and exhaling loudly. 

"Are you sure?" He asked, a frown on his face. "If you're not comfortable cuddling or being that close, we don't have to be. I'm sorry, I should've asked you first." 

"No, no, it's not that!" Quentin exhaled loudly again. He could feel his blood pressure rising. The physical tension between them was them was nearly suffocating, like being beneath the waves on the shore. It was so thick it could be cut with a knife, Quentin had heard it described as before. It wasn't even Steve as much as it was Quentin. 

"Oh... then what is it?" Steve asked, rather innocently. 

"No... it's fine," Quentin sighed, not ready to be honest about it just yet, "can I have some alcohol." 

"Of course!" Steve exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Though I think we only have beer. Are you okay with beer?" 

"Claudette says it's nasty," Quentin replied, "but there's a first time for everything." 

"That's what I like to hear!" Steve laughed, pulling two cans from out of the fridge and walking one over to Quentin. "Here." 

Quentin took it and looked at the can's design. "Pabst Blue Ribbon?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't this a hat?" 

"No," Steve laughed, leaning down and giving Quentin a quick peck on the lips, "it's a beer."

"I've seen this on a hat," Quentin chuckled, his face turning red from embarrassment and flat-out blushing. 

"They've definitely put this logo on a hat," Steve nodded, "all beer companies do it." 

"Oh..." Quentin sat silent for a moment before opening the can. Steve sat there watching intently as Quentin held the open beer. He held it close to his lips for a second before taking a sip, nearly spitting it out as he did. "This tastes terrible!" 

"Yeah, it tastes like shit," Steve laughed out loud, nearly spilling his own beer. 

"Why get it then?" Quentin coughed as he swallowed the mouthful of the liquor.

"It's cheap, that's why," Steve answered when he finished laughing. 

"Hey, Steve," Quentin's voice was low as he looked at the ground. 

"Y-Yeah?" He asked, his eyes widening a little. He was clearly thrown off by the sudden shift in tone. 

Quentin took another big gulp before continuing, grimacing from the taste. "Jake said this generation is only about sex, and he's right but is that what you think of us?" 

"What?" Steve asked, his face twisting in confusion from the question. "No, this is not at all about sex. Well, wait... let me rephrase that. I'm certainly very attracted to you sexually, but that's not only what I'm going for." 

Quentin took another gulp, shaking his head. Of course, Steve would have the perfect answer, so why was it him that wanted to make this sexual?

"So, you don't want to make this sexual?" Quentin asked after drinking more. 

What was he doing? The air crackled with energy, both of them breaking eye contact and looking lower. 

"Well... now I didn't say that." Steve chuckled, a grin spreading across his face. "Why are you wondering about that now?" 

"I'm not a bad guy, I swear," Quentin laughed, drinking more of his beer. 

"No, you are not, you're the sweetest guy," Steve agreed, taking a drink of his own. 

Quentin didn't know if it was because Steve was acting so sweet to him, or if it was how handsome his face was. Or maybe the almost too tight shirt he was wearing, his lean body on display. Or perhaps the jeans he was wearing that accentuated his lower body in all the right ways. But the point still stood, Quentin could taste Steve bubbling up inside of him. 

Quentin could feel both their blood pressure rise as their eyes dropped even lower. 

"Fuck this tension," Quentin chuckled, finishing his beer and placing it on the side table. 

"Hold up, let me finish mine," Steve smirked, knowing exactly where this was going. Shotgunning his beer, the guy tossed the empty can on the ground. 

Steve reached over, pulling Quentin closer and wrapping his arms around his waist as pressing their lips together. Quentin just needed to touch Steve, placing his hands anywhere and everywhere on the guy's body as they made out. The fabric just wasn't cutting it, though. 

"Can I take off your shirt?" Quentin breathed out in between kisses. 

"Only if I can take off yours," Steve chuckled, breathing heavily. 

"Deal," Quentin nodded, desperate to feel Steve's skin on his fingertips. 

They both broke apart momentarily, Quentin pulling Steve's shirt off, mouth gaping as his eyes took in every ounce they could see. Steve was beautiful. He wasn't muscular, per se, but he was lean, each muscle defined, sculpted perfectly. 

"Woah," Quentin breathed, blood instantly rushing down below his belt. 

"Your turn," Steve smirked, seeing the bulge growing in Quentin's pants. 

"Fuck," Quentin cursed, removing his jacket and laying it on the edge of the couch. His body wasn't nearly as well defined as Steve's, he was just slim. 

Steve quickly dispatched the shirt once Quentin was close enough for him to do so. He'd always been somewhat self-conscious about his body, but he was not going to let it get in the way. 

"Damn, babe," Steve grinned, running his fingertips along Quentin's stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "But wait, before we go any further, do I have your consent?" 

"Yes," Quentin smiled, "do I have yours?" 

"Absolutely," Steve smiled, kissing Quentin's stomach and causing a chill to run down his spine. "Care if I go any lower?"

"Let me, first," Quentin smirked, gently pushing Steve onto his back. 

"Oh?" Steve smiled. "Does Quentin have a little bit of a dom side?" 

"Sometimes," Quentin smiled back, undoing Steve's belt. His hardon was visible through the denim, and it looked big. 

Quentin was sweating a little, thinking about the size. Steve helped him remove his jeans, only his boxers remaining. "Wow."

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Steve said, signature smirk on his face. 

"Oh, shut it," Quentin laughed, shaking his head. 

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Steve chuckled back.

"It is big, though," Quentin sighed, "couldn't you have like, I don't know, an average-sized dick?" 

"Where's the fun in that?" Steve teased, putting his hands behind his head. 

"I guess you're right about that," Quentin gave a little smile. 

It was like admiring art, seeing Steve lay nearly naked with his arms behind his head. It was getting tighter below the belt for Quentin, too. He exhaled and removed the boxers also, his jaw dropping as he saw Steve's penis in all its glory. It was... marvelous to look at. No one Quentin's ever been with had a member as pretty. 

Quentin had to readjust himself to make it more comfortable for his own hardon before wrapping his hand around the base of Steve's cock. A groan escaped Steve's lips as he did so, the guy's dick growing noticeably harder in Quentin's hand. He gave it a few tentative strokes, bottom to top, before moving closer and placing his mouth around the head. 

"Fuuuucckkkk," Steve groaned again, his muscles tensing as Quentin took more of his dick into his mouth. 

It had been a while since Quentin had last sucked a dick, but he did his best to replicate everything he'd done before that guys liked. He used his mouth and hand at the same time, twisting his wrist up and down around the base as he sucked the top with the same idea, although oppositely. He could feel Steve's muscles get even tenser the longer he kept up the rhythm, Steve thrusting his hips up a little each time Quentin took more of his member into his mouth. 

"Wait, wait, wait!" Steve exclaimed, his hips bucking up. 

Quentin removed the guy's cock from his mouth and sat up quickly, leaving a mess behind from his saliva. "What? Shit, did I do something wrong?" 

"No... no, it's not that," Steve shook his head, his face was red, "I just almost busted already, which would've been awful." 

"Oh... OH," Quentin thought on it, his lips slowly forming into a grin, "damn am I THAT good?" 

"Shut up," Steve grumbled, crossing his arms, "maybe. But it's my turn, you're not getting off scot-free." 

"Eh, we don't have to..." Quentin's voice was low, though his own dick was throbbing beneath the fabric. 

"I can literally see your dick throbbing down there," Steve shook his head, "we're helping you out too." 

"Fine," he grumbled, undoing his belt and removing his pants for Steve. 

"Hey, now, you've got a pretty big one yourself," Steve teased, wrapping his fingers around Quentin's waist. Steve's touch made him even harder. "Not as big as mine, but still big." 

"Okay, are you done jerking yourself off?" Quentin teased, leaning down and giving Steve a sloppy kiss. 

"No, I've got you for that," Steve teased back, kissing down Quentin's chest and stopping to nip at one of his nipples. 

"Steve!" Quentin yelped, not expecting it. He didn't realize how sensitive his nipples were until that moment. 

"Sorry, I'm into nipple play," Steve grinned, "I'll warm you up to it." 

"N-No... I think I'm a fan already," Quentin could feel his face heat up as he said it out loud.

"Good," Steve chuckled, giving it another gentle bite before working his way down to Quentin's waistline, a tiny nip each stop he made. 

Quentin's dick was pulsing with each bite, biting his own lip. His hands were shaking in anticipation, feeling like he couldn't even breathe as he waited for Steve. He let out a ragged gasp as Steve pressed his warm mouth Quentin's member. Even though it was only through the fabric, Quentin saw stars, the air crackling again with electricity. 

"Let's just... remove these," Steve smirked, removing Quentin's underwear agonizingly slow. 

Finally, after what felt like hours, the cool living room air blew against Quentin's dick, along with Steve's warm breath keeping him dangerously on edge. He understood now why the ice and fire condoms were so appealing. Steve grabbed him at the base of his cock, the guy's fingertips sending a spark of electricity up his spine and to his brain. 

Sparks were flying. 

In an instant, Steve took the entire length of Quentin's cock into his mouth with no warning. 

"Wait-" Quentin gasped, the warm and wet heat of Steve's mouth nearly sending him over the edge. 

Quentin was on his knees but had to pull out and fall back onto the couch. 

"What's wrong?" Steve smirked, licking his lower lip. 

"Y-You can't just do that!" Quentin choked out, panting heavily and coming down from his nearly explosive high. 

"Says who?" He asked, grabbing his own dick in his hands as and starting stroking. 

"Well..." Quentin's voice trailed off, mesmerized by Steve and his dick. 

"C'mere," Steve smirked, adjusting himself, so he was sitting next to Quentin. 

Quentin moved closer, grabbing Steve's cock with his own hand and started stroking it. It was still wet enough from his saliva, luckily. He began stroking it quickly, earning an affirmative groan from Steve. He didn't know what Steve liked yet, but it was something he'd learn in time. 

Quentin leaned back down and took as much of Steve's cock into his mouth as he could, not able to go all the way down like Steve had. But, to be fair, Steve did have a larger dick. Thicker too. Quentin employed the same strategy as last time, twisting his head and hand in opposite directions as he sucked, knowing that had gotten Steve close before. 

"Fuck off, Quentin," Steve groaned as Quentin continued sucking, the guy's muscles tensing beneath his skin again. 

He could tell Steve was getting close because he was starting to buck his hips in rhythm was Quentin. 

"I'm close," Steve breathed, reaching over and grabbing Quentin's cock and stroking in time. 

Just the sounds of Steve moaning and the gentle but firm grip on Quentin's own dick as Steve stroked it was enough to make him cum. Quentin gasped loudly as his cum shot up onto himself, the warm liquid running down his body. 

"God, damn, Quentin," Steve half laughed, half gasped as he pulled Quentin off his dick, cum erupting from it only seconds after his mouth was off of it.

Quentin continued to stroke his cock as he came, knowing that it could bring on the best orgasm. Steve's cum landed on his abs, some of it even making it all the way up to his chest. Some of it leaked out onto Quentin's hands before he was finally done shooting. 

Both of them lay on the couch, breathing heavily. Neither Quentin or Steve had removed their hand from the other's dick just yet. Both of them breathing in the euphoria of their orgasm. 

After a couple of minutes of breathing heavily, Steve moved in close. He pulled Quentin into a harsh kiss, wrapping his arms around Quentin's waist as he did so. 

"We should probably get cleaned up, huh?" Quentin asked after they finished kissing. 

"Nah, let's just sleep here for the night," Steve mumbled, putting his face in Quentin's neck. 

"I don't want your roommates coming home to this!" Quentin exclaimed. 

"They'll be fine, I've come home to worse," Steve kept mumbling. 

"What! No! I don't want them seeing me naked and... covered in stuff," Quentin cleared his throat. 

"Fine! We'll move to my room, but I get to be the big spoon," Steve proclaimed, removing his face from the crook of Quentin's neck. 

"Fine," Quentin chuckled, "I like being little spoon more anyway." 

"Good, so we're in agreement," Steve grinned, giving Quentin a kiss on the lips before getting up. "C'mon, cutie," Steve said, holding his hand out to Quentin to help him up. 

For the first time in a long time, Quentin wasn't hesitant to take a helping hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 💕💞


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, my lovlies. i am SO sorry this took so long. a lot of irl stuff began happening with going back to work and starting up school and the pandemic and struggling with writer's block on top of it. it's been a lil messy. but here i am, thank you for your patience and i hope you enjoy the chapter.

Quentin sat upright suddenly, gasping loudly. 

"Ahh!" Steve jumped beside him, sitting up as well. "What the hell was that?" 

Quentin blinked a couple times rapidly, collecting his bearings. It took him a few moments to remember he was at Steve's place and not his own. Usually, Quentin had trouble sleeping at places that weren't his own, but oddly enough, he slept like a baby. No dreams, no nightmares, no nothing. It was a calm, serene rest for once. Quentin couldn't remember the last time he slept so soundly. 

Steve must've had blackout blinds because the room was still very dark, considering it was morning. However, the curtains weren't pulled wholly closed because some sunlight was still streaming through the window. 

"Hey, are you alright?" Steve asked, rubbing one eye and waving his other hand in front of Quentin's face. 

"Yeah..." Quentin nodded slowly, a smile spreading across his face. "Sorry, I just forgot where I was for a second." 

"Then, keep it down! I'm trying to sleep!" Steve grumbled, a smile tugging at his lips too. 

"I think I'll do what I want, thank you very much," Quentin teased him. 

"Oh, yeah? Will you?" Steve challenged, leaning in closer. 

"Yeah..." Quentin said with a tiny voice, his eyes eating up every detail of the guy's face. 

"Oh, I definitely believe you," Steve nodded slightly, face to face with him now, their lips nearly touching. 

Quentin's heart was pumping fast beneath his ribs, the rhythmic beating against the bars. He could feel the sparks from Steve's lips jumping to his, almost tasting them. The tiny bolts sending signals upwards, stimulating Quentin's brain. 

"Would it really kill you if we kissed?" Steve whispered, his lips brushing briefly against Quentin's as he spoke. Steve's hand made its way up Quentin's back, stopping as he gently grabbed the back of his neck. 

Quentin was at a loss for words. He didn't even know how to act. His brain was still trying to process the taste, the touch, the faint smell of Steve's cologne from the night before. Quentin's lips tingled in anticipation, longing for Steve's lips to press against his own. And the way Steve held the nape of his neck so securely it made him feel safe. 

"No," Quentin finally said, snapping out of his trance enough to speak. His mouth was slightly open, waiting for Steve to close that final gap. 

"Come on, then," Steve whispered, their lips brushing past each other's again as he spoke. 

It was clear that Steve was waiting for Quentin to close the final gap, which he was surprisingly not used to. Heat rose from his stomach as he gained the courage to close the gap. A little too forcefully, Quentin leaned forward, pressing his lips against Steve's. He had to brace himself a little, so Quentin didn't knock the both of them over. Once steadied, Steve wrapped his other arm around Quentin's hips, pulling him closer and deepening their kiss. 

The man's hand on the back of his neck, the feeling of his soft lips illuminated in the light, bouncing off Steve's hazel eyes as they fluttered open briefly. Quentin wrapped both arms around Steve's neck, trying to pull him in further even though they couldn't physically be closer. He could feel himself getting excited below the belt, doing his best to hide it from Steve. Quentin wasn't sure if it counted, but he would say kissing was one of his kinks if it did. 

Steve laughed, pulling away from Quentin's lips. The static from their kiss still jumping between them as they held onto each other. "So, you liked that, huh?" 

"Duh," Quentin nodded with a dumb smile on his face. His eyes were still half-closed as he watched the man, his light brown hair glowing a little as the sun shined on it. 

"Come here, cutie," Steve grinned at him. He pulled him in for a brief kiss with the hand still on the nape of Quentin's neck.

"Mmm, yeah, I'm a fan for sure," Quentin chuckled when they finished.

"Lay down with me," Steve said as he let go of Quentin, situating himself back on the bed, "I wanna cuddle."

"Let me just grab my phone," Quentin said, feeling around in the dark until his hand touched his phone case's cold plastic. Grabbing it, he laid down and rolled over to Steve. 

"Spooning," Steve told him sheepishly, motioning Quentin to turn around. 

"Fine, fine," Quentin chuckled, flipping over to be the little spoon for Steve. 

Steve slid his hand under Quentin's shirt, wrapping his arm around his midriff and pulling him closer. Goosebumps raised on his skin as Steve gave him little kisses on the back of his neck. Steve situated his chin on Quentin's shoulder, looking at his phone with him. 

"Hey, cutie," Steve whispered, giving a little grin to Quentin.

"Hey," Quentin grinned back, pulling up his phone and seeing a wall of notifications. 

"Oh, shit, mister popular," Steve chuckled, moving his free hand to Quentin's hair, gently running his fingers through the wave strands. 

"I wish," Quentin laughed, opening the texts from Jake. 

"Hey, are you coming home tonight?" Read the first. "Should I keep the door unlocked or lock it?" Read the second. "I guess you're staying the night at Steve's, huh? ;)" Read the third. "Be safe, though!" Read the fourth and final text from him.

"Who's Jake?" Steve asked, his fingers still running through Quentin's locks. 

"He's my roommate," Quentin replied, texting Jake to let him know he's safe. "Or... friend? When is the line crossed between roommate and friend?" 

"Not sure... I think it just happens," Steve attempted to shrug, though it didn't work too well, considering how close they were to each other. 

"You should meet some of my friends!" Quentin exclaimed, turning his head a little to give a little peck on Steve's lips. To which Steve happily obliged. 

"I'd love to," Steve grinned once their lips parted, placing his hand on the back of Quentin's head and pulling him in for another kiss. "Mmm, put the phone down."

Quentin happily obliged, setting the phone down next to them on the bed and snuggling into the man as he pulled Quentin even closer. One arm was still secured around his midriff, the other found it's way to Quentin's hair again, gently playing with his hair. Quentin moved his own arms on top of Steve's, intertwining their fingers as he did so. The gentle kisses on his neck and Steve's fingers running through his hair were enough to get him drowsy again. Before he could move to stop the melatonin's release, Quentin's eyes drooped, and he was out like a light. 

Quentin slowly opened his eyes again. The room was still nearly pitch black save for a little light streaming through the blackout blinds. He could feel Steve's arm still secured tightly around his stomach, a light snore coming from the guy behind him. Quentin squirmed beneath Steve's arm, doing his best to turn around toward Steve without waking him up. Steve was a lot stronger than Quentin would have thought, but then again, he had caught himself staring at the guy's biceps more than once, so he knew he had muscle. 

Miraculously, he turned his whole body over without waking the guy up. The only light streaming into the room conveniently lit up Steve's face. Quentin was thankful for this because it allowed him to his face that was becoming more and more familiar the longer he spent with him. He was sure he could find some meaningful connection to that, the sun only lighting up Steve's face and all, but he was still on the verge of sleep himself and didn't want to think too hard.

Quentin watched quietly, his eyes eating up Steve's handsome features again. Steve's face seemed a little sharp at times while he was awake, but seeing him now, utterly serene and at peace, his face looked so soft and gentle. Quentin couldn't help but touch his face, freeing one of his arms to tenderly caress his cheek. Little butterflies flapped quietly in his stomach as he looked over Steve's face.

Steve's snoring stopped as he stirred slightly, slowly waking from his slumber. He made a little noise before opening one eye slowly, making eye contact with Quentin. 

"Hey, again, cutie," Steve mumbled, sleep's grip still held him. 

"Hey," Quentin grinned, the ocean in his eyes staring into hazel, leaning toward more brown than green. 

"Gimme a kiss," Steve mumbled with a tiny smile on his face as he closed his eye again and puckered his lips.

Quentin leaned in and pressed their lips together, missing the heavenly feeling of Steve's soft lips against his own. The second their lips parted, Steve adjusted his arms around and wrapped them around Quentin's waist. He then pulled Quentin into his chest, a hand moving to his head to play with his hair again. Just like before, Quentin felt totally and utterly safe. It had been years and years since he last felt so secure. 

"I love you hair," Steve told him, still half asleep as he played with his locks.

"Yeah, well, I hate it," Quentin grumbled but didn't move, not wanting to leave the feeling of total safety just yet. 

"Why! It's so soft!" Steve exclaimed drowsily. "I bet there's enough to pull it into a tiny bun."

"A bun?" Quentin asked, nuzzling his face a little closer to Steve's chest.

"Yeah," Steve nodded above him, "it's what I do with my hair when I'm working out."

"I'd like to see that," Quentin mused, a smile on his face.

"The bun or the working out?" Steve asked him.

"Both, preferably," Quentin admitted.

"Well, you'll never see the bun," Steve replied with a soft chuckle. 

'Why not!" Quentin exclaimed, moving his head up and kissing Steve's jawline. 

"Because..." Steve hesitated briefly as Quentin kissed a more sensitive spot on his neck. "Because... it looks silly." 

"I'm sure it doesn't," Quentin laughed, kissing the spot where the jaw connects to the neck, knowing how sensitive it is.

"You know what," Steve chuckled, moving his head and kissing Quentin's lips a little harshly. "You really wanna get me excited, huh?" 

"Maybe..." Quentin grinned, his eyes retracing Steve's face. 

"Oh, I'll get excited, alright!" Steve teased, running his hands up and down Quentin's body and tickling him. 

"No! Steve, no!" Quentin exclaimed, trying to get into a defensive position as Steve attacked him with tickles. 

"What's wrong, tough guy?" Steve laughed, stopping briefly to plant a kiss on Quentin's lips. 

"No, I never said I was a tough guy," Quentin squeaked as he tried to curl into a defensive ball against the tickles. 

They both stopped as Quentin's phone started ringing. He turned and looked over his shoulder, staring at the ringing phone. He then looked back to Steve, not sure why he didn't just answer it. Quentin quickly rolled over, picking the phone up and seeing it was from Claudette. 

"Hey," Quentin answered, smiling slightly as Steve slid his arms around his waist, cradling him a little.

"Quentin, where are you?" Claudette sounded annoyed. He could imagine the expression on her face already. 

"Uh..." Quentin thought for a minute, not sure why he didn't just tell her immediately. "I'm with Steve." 

"Quentin! You're supposed to be here for our group project!" Claudette yelled, sighing loudly on the phone. 

"Oh, damn, I totally forgot about that..." Quentin replied sheepishly.

"When can you get here?" Claudette's voice crackled slightly through the phone.

"Um, as soon as I get up and brush my teeth," Quentin told her, looking over the bed's edge for his pants. Steve had lent him some shorts to sleep in. 

"You're still in bed? It's 3pm, Quentin!" Claudette sighed again. "Just get over to the library, it took forever for us to find a time that worked for everyone." And with that, she hung up. 

"That sounded like it didn't go too well," Steve laughed a little, still cradling Quentin.

"No, it certainly did not," Quentin huffed, setting down the phone and laying his head back against Steve's chest. "I don't want to get up."

"Then don't," Steve replied with a kiss on the top of Quentin's head. 

"Ugh, I wish," Quentin groaned, shifting a little, "but I have to. I told them we could work on our project today." 

"Lame, I don't have any classes today, so I'm just going to be lying around, bored and alone," Steve told him, enticing Quentin.

"Don't tempt me," Quentin laughed, finally getting the strength to sit up. Though Steve's arms were still around his stomach area.

"But that's the point!" Steve chuckled, still not letting go of Quentin. 

"I can come back when I'm done?" Quentin suggested. "Well, after I've eaten and showered, but..." 

"Promise?" Steve smirked.

"Promise," Quentin nodded, a smile spreading on his face.

"Pinky promise," Steve smiled back, holding up his pinky. 

"Steve!" Quentin laughed, shaking his head. "Okay, I pinky promise." He said, curling their pinkies together.

"Now give me a kiss before you move your finger," Steve told him, leaning halfway in. 

"A kiss?" Quentin asked, a little puzzled. 

"Yeah! You seal the pinky promise with a kiss!" Steve informed him. "Pinky promise kisses! Have you never heard!" 

"Alright, alright," Quentin gave in, a bigger smile spreading on his face as he leaned in. 

Steve's lips were as soft as ever, Quentin fighting the feeling to melt right back into the man. The pulled away slowly. Quentin opened his eyes as Steve did, both their gazes not wavering from the others. Quentin blushed and looked away, Steve's hazel eyes too intense to stare into for too long. But that wasn't all; it was how genuine and sincere Steve's gaze was. It was a little overwhelming. 

"I-I should go now," Quentin gulped, getting out of the bed and grabbing his pants. He suddenly felt a little ill thinking about getting so close to someone again. 

"What's that line? I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave? I wish I could push record as I watch you leave," Steve called after him, laughing a little. 

Quentin didn't reply as he hurried and changed into his pants, grabbing his jacket and beanie from off the couch. He had no idea why the fear suddenly set in, but it had, and he needed to leave. Without even putting them on first, Quentin headed to the door, the nauseating feeling becoming stronger, washing over him like the waves. 

Quentin opened the door, the cold air rushing in to embrace him. The sun was hiding behind the grey clouds that seemed to stretch endlessly, maybe hiding from her fears, too. Ironically, his mother always told him to face the fear that kept him frozen. Chase the sky into the ocean, she would say to him. It's ironic because he wondered if she thought that the sea would someday become the chasm for his despair: the big blue, the terror and horror of it all. 

He cried a little, closing the door behind him. 

"Quentin, are you alright?" Claudette asked him, standing up from the library table and helping him to a seat. "You look awful." 

"Yeah, yeah," Quentin waved her off, swallowing hard, "I'm okay." 

"Are you sure?" She asked, concern spreading over her face. "You look seriously ill." 

"I'll live, we need to work on this project," Quentin pushed through, sitting up straight and securing the beanie. 

"If you're sure..." Claudette said slowly, sitting back down at the table.

"He said he was sure, can we get started?" One of the girls at the table groaned.

"Alright, Samantha, settle down," Claudette shot the girl a look, opening the textbook in front of her. "Just read the book, okay?" 

"I have been! He's just late!" The girl, Samantha, complained.

"I'm sorry," Quentin frowned at her as he grabbed his own book from his backpack. 

Quentin didn't pay attention much to what his group members were talking about. He was too lost in his own head for that. He couldn't quite seem to get his mind off Steve. He didn't want a guy to be getting in the way of his schooling ever, but something about Steve was mesmerizing. Not only that, but a tiny part of Quentin was also scared of where they would end up. He was thinking, and he felt that there was nothing to lose and nothing to gain but future pain. 

Before he knew it, the meeting was coming to an end. Quentin tried to apologize to Samantha, but she didn't care that much as she quickly put all her books away and stormed off. 

"You really love to be dramatic, huh?" Claudette asked as she helped him up.

"Alright, listen," Quentin chuckled weakly, slinging his bag over his shoulder, "I don't feel good." 

"She was really mad, huh?" She laughed as they walked out of the library. "Maybe you should go back to your dorm if you don't feel good." 

"I think I will," Quentin nodded weakly in agreement. 

"You want me to help you walk there?" Claud asked, pulled the backpack over his other shoulder. 

"No, no, I'm fine," Quentin laughed lightly, "I can make it on my own."

"You're sure?" She asked, eyeing him. 

"I'm sure," he nodded. 

"Okay, well, text me when you get there, so I know you made it," she told him, giving him a little nudge. 

"You know I'm gonna forget," Quentin shook his head, a small grin spreading. "I always do." 

"Well, then I'll text you constantly, so you remember," Claudette shrugged, grinning back at him.

"Fine, fine," Quentin waved her off, "I need to shower and lay down." 

"Alright, you do that, smelly," Claudette laughed, heading down the hallway. 

"I hate that," Quentin called to her as she left.

His phone chimed in his pocket. He fished it from his jeans and looked at it. 

"I told you I'm texting you the ENTIRE way." The text from Claudette read. 

Quentin smiled and looked up, catching her winking at him right before she rounded the corner. 

Quentin groaned and rolled over in his bed, opening one eye. 

"Can you stop groaning so loudly?" Jake called from the kitchen. "I'm trying to watch something." 

"Whatever," Quentin groaned again, this time louder as he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. 

"Shouldn't you be at your boyfriend's place or something? Gosh," Jake grumbled.

"He's not my boyfriend," Quentin grumbled back. 

"God, you two bicker like an old couple," a girl's voice startled Quentin. 

"Who the hell is that?" Quentin asked, Jake's head poking into the room as he asked.

"Don't be rude, this is my classmate Kimi," Jake told him sternly, "we have a project together."

"Oh," Quentin's voice trailed off, "hello, Kimi. Sorry."

"You're good," she laughed, "he was boring me to death anyway."

"Wow," Jake said sadly, slinking back to the kitchen. 

Quentin laid his head back down, rubbing his eyes. He slept way longer than he intended to, and it made him feel worse. Something about napping more than twenty minutes made you feel groggier. He read that somewhere, but he never checked to see if it was true. Quentin's phone lit up, the light drawing his gaze like a moth to a flame. 

"Hey, what's up?" The text from Steve read. It was the third one the guy had sent him. 

Quentin reached for his phone to reply but stopped. Quentin wasn't sure what to do because he knew, deep down, that he was scared of genuine connection. He didn't know if he could trust someone enough to care ever since his mother passed away. It was hard for Quentin, and it wasn't how he wanted it to be, it's how it had to be. 

But against his better judgment, he picked the phone up and texted Steve back. "Hey, I'm sorry, I was knocked out."

"Damn, who knocked you out?" Steve replied almost instantly. 

"Not like that, you goof." Quentin chuckled to himself. 

"So, are you gonna come over?" Steve texted. Quentin's heart skipped a beat.

"I'm not sure..." Quentin replied. 

"Aww, you can't? What about the pinky promise kiss?" Steve texted him. 

Quentin frowned, feeling guilty he forgot about their pinky promise kiss. "I just don't feel too good, I don't want to get you sick."

"I don't mind, I just wanna hold you," Steve replied, making Quentin's heart hurt a little with how sweet it sounded. 

"Alright, alright. I don't want to break our first pinky promise kiss." Quentin said, rolling out of bed and pulling some pants on. 

"Good, because I'd be very sad if you did." Steve texted with a crying emoji. 

"Where are you going?" Jake's head perked up as he saw Quentin leaving their room, pulling a jacket on.

"I'm going over to Steve's place," he replied, snatching his beanie from off the table and pulling it over his messy head. 

"I thought you weren't feeling well?" Jake asked, cocking his head a little. 

"I'm feeling better. I also promised I'd go back over and see him," Quentin told the man as he walked toward the front door. 

"Are you staying the night?" Jaked question. "Because I don't wanna be up late again worrying about you."

"I'll be fine," Quentin chuckled, waving him off, "and it's pretty late, so I'll probably just be staying the night." 

"Text me when you get there," Jake shouted to him.

"You know I'll forget!" Quentin shouted back right before he shut the door behind him. 

Quentin stood out in the cold, looking up at Steve's apartment building. The building was massive, even more significant than he remembered it was. It stood there, looking on over the college campus like a great, unblinking giant. Something about the structure was oddly comforting like he had seen it in a movie, or a dream perhaps. Familiarity seemed to seep out the windows, the light illuminating the dark, winter grass. 

"I'm outside." Quentin texted, his hands shaking from the cold. 

"Alright, I'll come down to get you," Steve responded. 

It was a minute or two before Steve opened the apartment's front door, letting Quentin in from the cold, night air. Before he could even say anything, Steve pulled him in for a kiss. The warmth of the guy's breath and his lips' softness almost melting Quentin in his place. 

"Hey," Steve's voice was quiet, a little smirk forming on his lips once the kiss was finished, still not pulling away.

"Hey," Quentin breathed, immediately happy he came back over. "Wait, I don't want to get you sick if I have something."

"Ah, whatever," Steve shrugged, pecking Quentin on the lips again as they made their way to the stairs leading up to his place. 

When they arrived at Steve's apartment, he opened the door and let them in. Three guys were sitting on the couch, playing some game that Quentin didn't know. He was a little surprised, actually. For whatever reason, he did not expect any of Steve's roommates to be home. 

"Hey, guys, this is my friend Quentin," Steve introduced him to them. 

"Sup, Quentin," they all said, almost in unison, not looking away from the TV screen. 

"They like their video games," Steve told him quietly as he led them down the hall to his room. 

"I like video games myself, actually," Quentin said, "although, not so much as they do, it would seem." 

"Oh, yeah? What do you play?" Steve asked as he closed his door behind them. 

"Does the Sims count...?" Quentin asked sheepishly, taking off his shoes and not looking Steve in the eye. 

He was quiet for a minute, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It's a video game, isn't it? I'd reckon it does count."

"Really?" Quentin grinned at Steve. "So many people claim it doesn't count as a real game." 

"Well, I think it's weird for people to be gatekeeping what does or does not count as a real video game," Steve chuckled, "let people enjoy things." 

"Wait, why is that so hot?" Quentin laughed as he plopped down on Steve's bed. 

"Why is what so hot?" Steve asked, diving into bed and pulling Quentin into his arms.

"Ah," Quentin shouted, startled at how sudden it was. 

"Why's what so hot?" Steve repeated the question, giving Quentin little kisses on the back of his neck. 

Quentin shivered, but not because he was cold. Tiny goosebumps raised on his skin in the places Steve's lips graced. "Just, um, you know..." he tried to answer but was too distracted. 

"Do I?" Steve teased him, finally relenting with his kisses. He wrapped his arms around Quentin's midriff and placed his chin on his shoulder. 

"It just seemed so genuine and kind-hearted," Quentin admitted, blushing a little. "It's hard to find that in a guy." 

"Is it?" Steve asked, his eyes starting to droop as he spoke. "You're the first guy I've ever been, I guess, romantically involved with." 

"Really?" Quentin asked, genuinely surprised. "You haven't been with a guy before?" 

"Not really, no," Steve replied, giving a little butterfly kiss on the side of Quentin's neck. "I didn't really think guys would be into me if I'm honest."

"Oh, please!" Quentin chuckled, moving his head a little to look at Steve's face. "You're literally so hot, I don't believe guys weren't into you." 

"I suppose they probably were," Steve shrugged, "but I wasn't into them. Not until I met you." 

Quentin's heart skipped a beat, his face beginning to heat up. "You're so sweet," Quentin sighed, almost annoyed at Steve for acting the way he was. 

"Mmm, I know," Steve teased, laughing a little. 

"Alright, we're done here," Quentin teased back, pretending to try and get out of Steve's grasp. 

"I don't think so," Steve laughed, pulling Quentin back in so they were face to face. "Hey."

"Hey," Quentin breathed back, his eyes eating up every feature on Steve's face.

Steve leaned in and kissed Quentin, his lips seeming ethereally soft. So much so that he felt like he was melting into the fabric of another reality, making Quentin feel untouchable, safe, otherworldly. It was something metaphysical, like the view of the ocean from the cliff's edge taken in from one of his dreams. A thing perfect.

"Can I touch your ass?" Steve asked when his lips broke away from Quentin's.

"Uh, what?" Quentin laughed, a stupid grin spreading on his face. 

"You have a nice ass, and I want to touch it," Steve admitted, albeit a little shyly for once. 

"It's really not that nice," Quentin chuckled, his own face heating up again. 

"Oh, it absolutely is," Steve reassured him. 

"You have a better ass than me," Quentin sighed, remembering how nice Steve's ass looked in those tight jeans at the party where they talked. 

"Can we not pit two nice asses against each other?" Steve shook his head, a tiny smile pulling on his lips.

"Alright, you can touch it," Quentin chuckled, wanting the guy to touch his ass anyway. 

"Hell yeah," Steve smirked, one hand moving from Quentin's lower back and settling on his ass, gently grabbing it. 

"Is it everything you hoped it would be?" Quentin teased the guy.

"Better," Steve nodded in confirmation, "I'm just gonna leave it there."

"Alright," Quentin smiled, not wanting Steve to move his hand away anyway. 

"I'm glad you said that, because I didn't want to move it," Steve laughed gently, placing another kiss on Quentin's lips. 

Now, it was Quentin's turn for his eyes to droop. Sleep suddenly tugging at his eyelids as he fought to keep them open. He wanted to keep tracing every detail and feature on Steve's face, trying his hardest not to succumb to the night. But every time he slept with Steve, his nightmares seemed to subside, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Quentin moved in closer, nuzzling his face into Steve's neck before completely passing out. 

Maybe his definition of sweet dreams could change after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope i didn't over do it, i always tend to write a ton each chapter with these two lmao. i've got a few other fics that need updating before i can get back to this one, but i promise it wont take AS long since my writer's block seems to be going away finally 
> 
> <3 love you guys

**Author's Note:**

> as much as i'd love to name each chapter....... dont get used to that just because i know if a title doesnt come to me easily i WILL delay the entire chapter release until i think of something perfect, and i dont wanna do that to u guys. awakening just sounded right to me :) anyway, im off again! until next time, my beauties, bang bang kiss kiss


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